


Temporary Bliss

by koganewest



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Bottom Keith (Voltron), Friends With Benefits, Homesick Lance (Voltron), Hurt Keith (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) Angst, Lance (Voltron) Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, NSFW, Orphan Keith (Voltron), Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-05-06 00:25:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 31,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14630175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koganewest/pseuds/koganewest
Summary: Keith and Lance become friends with benefits with the intention of simplicity, but it turns out a lot messier than either of them had planned.





	1. A Taste of Heaven

It begins with unjustified hatred. 

In hindsight, he never should’ve taken the Garrison kids with him when he rescues Shiro. He’d been so miserable when the Kerberos mission failed, so hopeless. Then, out of nowhere, Shiro shows up again. Quite frankly, he’d barely believed his own eyes when he broke into the room to see Shiro strapped down to a cot against his will. And then these three students, these three _kids_ , want to take Shiro from him again? Absolutely not. He’s not about to let that happen. 

So he takes them with him. And along with their education, he takes their freedom. He drags them along his ridiculous odyssey to find this “energy” he isn’t even sure exists. And from then on, they’re tethered together as this ridiculous semblance of a team, fighting the most powerful forces in the universe. They’re the least likely group of leaders – except for Shiro, he reasons. He doesn’t quite know how they’ve managed to even stay alive for so long. 

He feels bad for dragging them away from their families, from their homes. 

He’d thought from the start they were a liability. He turns out to be the liability. It’s his fault they risk their lives every day. It’s his fault they’re now covered in bruises and scars. It’s his fault they haven’t slept a full night in their own beds. It’s all his fault. 

He should’ve refused to take them with him, he should’ve left without them. It was his fault that they were missing their families, it’s his fault that they are out risking their lives, it’s his fault they aren’t home. 

___

Nothing had gone as planned. 

The castle had a virus, and they were fighting Sendak. He and Pidge were dodging his attacks, protecting each other, as well as Allura, Shiro, and Lance. The latter two were unable to help, since Shiro was weak and restrained and Lance was unconscious. The remaining paladins managed to reverse the damage and trap the infiltrator on Allura’s command.

Once Sendak was no longer a threat, Keith and Pidge immediately rush to the injured paladins. Pidge uncuffed Shiro as Keith approached Lance, outstretching a hand toward the boy on the ground, who looks extremely beat-up and delirious. Regardless, he takes Keith’s hand with weak grip. 

“Lance, are you okay?” He asks, while Lance doesn’t let go of his hand. He meets Keith’s gaze, and the way the injured boy looks at Keith makes his gut twist with something a bit more intense than friendly concern. 

“We did it,” he smiles, despite the fact that he’s bruised and bleeding. His eyes are filled with a sincerity that Keith can’t comprehend. It makes him extremely uneasy. “We are a good team.”

Keith doesn’t even attempt to hide the smile he gives in return.  
___ 

Everyone is worried while Lance is in the healing pod. 

He looks pained, even in cryogenic sleep. He’s got this long gash down his cheek that has admittedly closed up a good bit since the last time he saw the blue paladin. There are yellowing bruises across his left temple. He looks uncharacteristically pale, and his eyelashes barely show against darkened circles below his eyes. His freckles, though, are prominent upon the tops of his cheekbones.

Everyone is worried, but Keith is particularly tense. He’s about one more sarcastic remark away from a well-deserved scolding from Shiro. 

Because if Lance doesn’t wake up, it’s his fault. 

Thankfully, though, he does. They all know he’s okay when he flirts with Allura. When they’re gathered around him as he eats, they discuss the fight. Lance makes a jab at Keith, jokingly accusatory. “Sounds like the mice did more than you, though.”

“I punched Sendak!” He retaliates from where he’s sat on the table, facing Lance.

“Yeah, apparently after I emerged from a coma and shot his arm off.”

“We had a bonding moment!” Keith emphasizes. He raises his arms indignantly and wonders how Lance could possibly not remember. He honestly thought they were progressing toward friendship, but Lance apparently had other ideas. Still, that doesn’t stop Keith from fighting it. “I cradled you in my arms!” 

“Nope, don’t remember, didn’t happen.” Lance crosses his arms and shakes his head. Keith looks at him incredulously before he changes the subject. Typical. 

He doesn’t know why Lance hates him so much. He doesn’t know why he cares, either. 

___

When they’re waiting to retrieve Sendak’s memories, Keith is the first to give up. Sitting in that room isn’t achieving anything. Sitting in that room gives him too much time to think. He announces he’s going to train and leaves. 

He feels a bit bad for leaving his team there, but they’re fine. He can’t handle being in silence for so long. 

On his way to the training deck, he stops by his room to get his dagger from under his pillow. He considers it his most important possession, his _only_ important possession. It’s the only thing he has from life on earth, besides his clothing. The blade is his primary connection he has to his past. He feels stupid for being so reliant on an object, but he can’t help it. It’s the only thing his parents left for him. 

He stares at it for a minute, runs his fingers over the sharp edge. He’s long since memorized the shape of it, and its weight in his hands feels familiar, comforting. It’s his protection. “Start training level one,” he shouts, and is immediately face to face with a fighter bot. 

Training is good for Keith. It gives him time to clear his head, just focus on the task at hand. It keeps away his interfering thoughts. It keeps his mind blank. Plus, it’s a good way to release his pent-up frustration. 

By the time he gets to level three, he sweating. It’s harder than he remembers; this bot is easily beating him. He starts to panic when it pins him down. He breaks free and scrambles backward. “End training sequence,” he shouts. Nothing happens. “End training sequence now!” 

He’s scared now. 

But he manages to get away for a brief moment, escapes the gladiator bot, and seals it in the training room. He only has a short tick for recovery until it breaks through the door and is back at his throat again. He tries to fight it off in the hallways, but then he stumbles upon Lance in an airlock, who is screaming for help as the computer counts down. 

“Keith!” He screams, frantic and terrified. Keith hates hearing it in his voice but doesn’t have time to contemplate it. He and Lance are both in a life or death situation.

“What are you doing in there?” He asks stupidly. He’s freaking out, he doesn’t know what to say. 

“I need help! Because if you don't get me out of here right now, I'm going to be sucked out into space!” He shouts, and Keith has an idea. He’s able to fight off his gladiator and boot him out through the doors as they open. Lance is still screaming at him for help. He reaches down and grabs ahold of him. 

It’s strange having someone’s life in your hands. It’s a bit surreal, watching Lance look up to him with all the trust in the world. 

“What were you doing out there?” He asks once they’re both safe. They’re both still panting, still have adrenaline rushing through their veins, still have fear in their eyes. 

“Who was that guy?” Lance deflects the question, instead asking about his own wellbeing. Keith ignores the odd sensation in his gut. 

“He was trying to kill me!”

“Well, is he the Castle? Because that's who's trying to kill me!” Lance is still breathing heavily as he announces this. They share a look and then shout, scrambling to stand and run. They head toward their rooms and come across Lance’s first, stumbling inside as the doors close, leaving them collapsed and panting against the back wall. 

There’s a sudden crash from out in the hallway, and the two jump instinctively closer together. Keith ends up with both hands balled into fists on Lance’s jacket, while Lance cowers into him. There’s a brief moment of shared comfort between the two before Lance is shaking him off with a yelp. “Get off me, mullet!”

Keith thinks about the warmth of Lance’s scent for the rest of the day.  
___ 

They’d had an exhausting battle that day, leaving Keith’s head aching with an inability to see straight. All he really wanted was to be looking up at the stars, but now, in the castle, they are among them. 

So he wanders down to the observatory with a blanket and a pillow, sets the two on the floor and looks around. It’s much more beautiful than it had ever been on earth, but it just isn’t helping. He misses the cold wind burning his cheeks, tossing his hair, filling his lungs. 

It’s been a while since Keith has felt grounded. Losing Shiro when he was at the Garrison made him feel like the floor had been ripped out from under him. He craved the days that he used to spend working on his motorbike with Shiro at his side. Thinking about that is bittersweet.

He starts to doze off but jumps when he hears the doors open.

Lance is standing frozen in the doorway, in sweatpants and a loose shirt. There’s a delicate blush on his cheeks, a few damp strands of hair plastered to his forehead, and a barely noticeable layer of glistening sweat on his face – all which tell Keith that Lance has probably been in the training room. It’s quite a different look on him, and it causes Keith to stare a little longer than he’d like to admit. He watched with caution as Lance nervously runs his fingers through his hair and questions him warily. “Am I interrupting? Sorry, I’ll go-”

“It’s fine, you can stay,” Keith cuts him off, regretting his offer almost immediately. He truly doesn’t know why he said that. The other boy makes his way to the middle of the room where Keith is and sits down, giving him some space. Lance also seems a bit confused to have been invited into the room, so Keith tries to lighten the tension. “Why are you here?”

“Same reason you are, I guess,” Lance replies simply, “I miss the night sky on earth.” The vulnerability in his voice is new, something usually concealed by bravado and humor. Keith is a bit overwhelmed by the sincerity of it, but he guesses that he’s a bit out of his element also. After all, he is a loner but he chose to invite Lance in. He chose to not be alone. Keith is startled when Lance speaks again, catches his gaze, “I miss my family, too.”

“Oh,” is all Keith has to offer. He doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t have anyone to miss. There’s nothing to miss about his empty shack in the middle of the desert.

“Comforting as always, thanks,” Lance says, laughing a bit. The intensity is gone, replaced by a strange familiarity, like they had been lifelong friends or something.

“I don’t know what you want from me!” Keith counters while trying to maintain a straight face. “The only time we ever talk is when you insult me!” He’s defensive and doesn’t quite know why. Lance wasn’t attacking him in any way. He’s just maybe a bit upset that he can’t help Lance feel better, since Keith is already feeling better himself.

“All because we care, of course.”

It’s sarcasm, Keith knows that, but the sentence makes him stiffen a bit regardless. Lance is just teasing him. As usual. He swallows hard and glances at the boy next to him, who has since laid out too close on his blanket. Blue eyes meet Keith’s, and he tightens his jaw. The moment is too overwhelming; he doesn’t know how to manage what he’s feeling. 

“For real, though!” Lance smiles. It’s genuine; Keith hates it. He hears Lance sigh at the unacknowledged statement before he tries again. “So tell me,” he begins, turning his head away from Keith to face the observatory windows in front of them. “What’s eating you, Kogane?”

And just like that, Keith can practically feel his defensive walls building back up.

It isn’t that he hates his last name. How could he? It’s just a name. It is, however, a reminder of the people that abandoned him. He doesn’t identify with the name. After all the betrayal he’s suffered from two people called Kogane, it feels unfair that the only retaliation he can possibly offer is ditching the name. It feels unfair, but it’s his only option. 

“Keith?”

His name is whispered into the empty air. He forgot for a minute he wasn’t alone. Lance is looking at him with such unadulterated concern that Keith just can’t. He can’t. 

He’s on his feet and leaving before he even realizes. When he’s back in the comforting emptiness of his room, he notices he left his pillow and blanket in the observatory. 

When he wakes up the next morning, they’re outside his room in a small pile on the floor. 

Keith ignores the way they smell like Lance. 

___

They’re in the lounge room with the rest of the team when they start arguing. Hunk, Pidge, and Lance all want to take a break to visit Earth, talk to their families, but they don’t understand that the universe is at stake. Shiro stays quiet. Why is Keith the only one thinking rationally? He’s beyond frustrated. 

"I know you miss your family, guys, but it's about the big picture here! This is the whole _universe_ we're talking about; it's more important than just a few people!" Keith tried to approach Lance gently, both hands outstretched toward him. When he touches his shoulders, comforting, understanding, Lance jumps back as if he's been burned. Keith ignores how much it hurts.

"The universe is not more important! They're my family, they're _the most important people in my life._ " Lance spits at him. It's so malicious that Keith almost doesn't believe he's talking to the same Lance he knows. He tries again to be compassionate; he knows Lance is hurting. He doesn't intend to be so angry.

"Okay, okay, they're important, I get it-"

" _NO!_ " He screams. This time, he takes a threatening step toward Keith. His eyes no longer belong to him. He's absolutely seething. "You don't get it, Keith! You will _never_ get it! You will never understand how I feel, how we all feel! You can't understand! You couldn't possibly, because _you don't even have a family!_ "

No one sees Keith for five whole days after that.

___

When he returns, he's somewhat drunk.

He stumbles into Lance's room, immediately turning on the light. He could tell Lance hadn't been sleeping because he's already sitting upright in his bed. He looks startled and then immediately relieved. "Keith, you're okay! No one knew where you were!"

The other boy just mumbles to himself, leaning heavily against the wall. Lance notices that Keith looks like he's about fall over, so he stands and approaches him warily. Keith sticks a hand in his unruly hair and speaks more clearly this time. "You!" He then points to Lance, expression changing into something indecipherable. "You. I hate you. So much. So, so much." He looks hurt. "Get out of my room, I don't like you. I don't want to see you! Ever! I hate you!"

"Keith," he starts, and decides not to correct him that this isn't his own room. He advances toward him cautiously, "I'm sorry for what I said. I didn't mean it, I was just mad." Lance puts a gentle hand on his shoulder, and Keith looks like he might cry. He tries not to overthink it when he just collects Keith into his arms. He feels limp against him, and he smells of the cold and desperation. It breaks his heart. "I'm sorry, Keith, I didn't mean it."

"Can I tell you a secret?" He mumbles into Lance's neck, who feels guilty because Keith avoided the apology. Lance nods and reaches up to tangle his fingers in his hair. It's odd, comforting him. Keith had always been someone to flinch away from physical contact, but right now he seems more content that he'd ever been. Lance chalks it up to his intoxication.

"Of course," he answers. Keith achingly separates himself from his embrace to look Lance in the eyes. He's quite literally glowing, a drunken blush on his cheeks, eyes half lidded, lips upturned in a lazy smile. It's in that moment that Lance decides Keith is breathtaking. 

"I don't actually hate you," he whispers. Lance laughs softly, eyes closed and head tipped back. The warm light makes his freckles near his eyes apparent. The sight makes Keith's head even more foggy. "I just, I just –"

"It's time for you to go to bed, Keith, come on," Lance begins guiding Keith out of his room, but Keith isn't having it. He pulls away and pouts at him.

"No, no, not yet!" He emphasizes urgently, slightly offended when Lance giggles at him. "I have to tell you a secret!"

"I know, Keith, you don't hate me -"

"No, that's not it!" He stomps a foot in distress. His hand reaches out, unsteady, shaking, toward Lance's face. He ends up cupping his cheek and pulling him close. "Do you wanna know my secret?"

And he kisses Lance.

It's the last thing he can remember when he wakes up, clad in nothing but his gray briefs, in Lance's bed. Alone.

The shower is running. The bed is cold. Keith is alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heya! first chaptered klance fic ever so go easy on me :) im really excited for this though! hope you enjoyed the first chap! be prepared for lots of angst 
> 
> come talk to me on [tumblr](https://koganewest.tumblr.com/)


	2. In The Morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter includes some of keith's past. there is mention of a past suicide attempt, but its nondescript and brief.

Keith spends the majority of the day in the training room. 

He’s letting out all of his pent-up frustrations on a gladiator bot, but as it turns out, fighting while angry isn’t very effective. His head is all over the place, his movements are jagged, and he can’t even get past Level 3.

Sweat rolls down his back as he thinks about the previous night. He’d do absolutely anything to remember what happened, but the soreness he feels when he stands is enough of a hint. He wonders what it was like to feel Lance, to touch him, to be completely immersed in him. He’d give anything to relive it. He wonders if it meant anything to the other boy. 

The doors to the training room open, distracting Keith, which causes him to take a sharp blow to the stomach from the bot. He recuperates quick enough to see Lance walk through the doorway. _Speak of the devil,_ he thinks to himself. 

“Keith?” He questions, so seemingly ignorant to the way he’s making Keith feel, who disregards the call to parry a few hits from the bot. “Can we talk?”

“Nothing to-”, he starts but is cut off by the gladiator striking him particularly hard at the shoulder. “Nothing to talk about,” he states with an edge to his voice. It’s a warning to leave him alone, but, as usual, Lance ignores it. 

“Come on, I just want to talk,” he says; it sounds a bit like a plea. 

“I said _no_.” Keith states, emphasizing each word with a particularly forceful stab at the bot. He avoids looking at Lance, knowing he’d give in immediately. Still, he catches a glance of that signature green jacket and relaxed-fit jeans.

“End training sequence,” Lance shouts in antagonization, and the bot immediately stops. If Keith wasn’t seething before, he is now. He glares at Lance with an indescribable fire in his eyes, willing it to swallow Lance whole, to scare him away, to do anything but have this humiliating conversation. 

“What is _wrong_ with you? Just leave me alone!”

“No!” Lance counters, “we need to talk about what happened last night!”

“We really don’t have to!”

They’re screaming at each other. Keith is panting, staring right into Lance’s eyes, which are filled with frustration. But something changes for a second in his gaze. Lance takes too long to respond, so Keith straightens up and looks at him questioningly, folding his arms across his chest. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I just –” he starts, then shakes his head. “You just look really good like this,” Lance explains, smirking slightly. The compliment heats up Keith’s cheeks. He’s always been jealous of the way Lance can flirt shamelessly. He steps closer to Keith and lowers his voice to a whisper, to words only meant for him to hear. “I can’t stop thinking about it. Like, it’s been so long since – since I’ve been with someone. And I can’t get it out of my head.”

“Oh,” is the only response his brain can possibly formulate as he stares at the boy in front of him blankly. 

“Alright, okay, never mind then.” Lance rubs the back of his neck, retreating immediately. He almost looks embarrassed, and its an odd thing to see from someone so confident. “I guess I overstepped boundaries. Sorry. You were wasted, I shouldn’t assume that you’d want to –”

“Lance,” he cuts him off, “I, uh, yeah.” He knows he’s so red right now, but it’s not really his main concern. He can’t believe what Lance is saying, and he doesn’t even process the words he’s saying when he speaks. “I wouldn’t mind if we, like, you know –”

Lance promptly interrupts his stuttering when he corners Keith against the wall, grinning crookedly. “Don’t have to tell me twice.”

And then they’re kissing. It’s a whole different experience, making out with Lance while sober. Everything is overwhelming to him: the taste of him, the smell of him, the feeling of his lips on his neck. He feels intoxicated again, but this time by Lance and _only_ Lance. It’s absolutely breathtaking. 

By the time Lance is two fingers deep in him, they haven’t even bothered to take their shirts off. Keith’s pants are pooled around his ankles at the floor, and Lance’s are unzipped just enough. They’re huddled in the corner of the training room still. Keith’s facing the wall, bent over, hands above his head as Lance preps him patiently from behind. 

He’s moaning without restraint when Lance reaches around to cover his mouth. “Shh, we don’t wanna get caught, do we?”

Keith practically chokes because, fuck, that’s hot. Before he knows it, Lance is pushing into him. There’s a bit of pain, but it’s bearable after a moment. Lance places both of his hands on Keith’s hips and leans down to nuzzle into his hair. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, fine,” he replies, sounding a bit strangled with anticipation. “Just move.”

He doesn’t have to tell Lance twice. He pulls out slowly, before abruptly pushing back into him. When Keith doesn’t respond the way he wants, he shoves him further into the wall and angles his next thrust upward. He’s got Keith seeing stars immediately. “Holy shit, _there!_ Right there!”

It’s so rough and raw that Keith is practically screaming when he finally comes. Lance hasn’t yet, but he pulls out and practically shoves him to his knees. “Wanna come on your face.”

Keith sits with his mouth open, tongue out, as Lance tugs a few times before covering his face. Keith makes eye contact with him and licks off what’s on his lips. When he swallows, Lance lets out a heavy breath. “Holy shit, that’s hot,” he admits. “I wish I could take a picture of the way you look right now.”

He doesn’t reply, and instead watches as Lance zips his jeans and tries to tame his own hair, a result of Keith’s fingers running through it while they’d kissed. Keith doesn’t know how he’s going to walk out of the training room with cum all over his face, but Lance seems to read his mind, offering to get him a towel. 

When he returns, Keith’s fully clothed again. Lance tosses the towel in his direction, and he takes it graciously. “So,” he begins, not really knowing what to say. 

“So,” Lance repeats after he’s taken too long to continue. “Are you good with this? No strings attached?”

“Just sex?” He questions, looking at Lance. The other boy meets his gaze with a certain eagerness that Keith just can’t deny the offer. It is very appealing, because intergalactic war tends to be frustrating, and an orgasm is a good way to relieve stress. And, it’s a pretty good bonus that Lance looks the way he does. 

“Just sex,” Lance affirms, sticking out a hand to shake. Keith finds it weird that this is the way they’re confirming a casual sexual relationship but doesn’t question it. 

“Sounds good.” And it really does.  
\--- 

They continue their agreement for a while in between battles, relieving stress and losing themselves in each other, until something throws a wrench in their plans. Shiro is gone again. Keith feels like his world is ending.

He misses Shiro with everything he has. There have been too many instances where he almost lost Shiro, and he’s tired of being alone. 

And on the day of his twentieth birthday, he’s reminded of his sixteenth. 

Every year since he’d known Shiro, he’d made a point to call him up the moment it turned midnight and make sure he felt loved. Keith didn’t have anyone else to care about him, so the fact that Shiro cared meant more to him than anything. He looked forward to it so much. 

However on the eve of his sixteenth birthday, he received no call. 

His memory of that night is shockingly clear. He’d been waiting on the floor of the main room in his shack all night, phone in hand. When the clock reached half past twelve, Keith debated calling him but decided against it. 

Shiro didn’t call. Shiro didn’t want to talk to him. Shiro didn’t want him. No one did. He was cold and tired and hungry and heartbreakingly alone.

Keith decided that he couldn’t keep living like this. In fact, he wasn’t even living; he was just surviving. He couldn’t keep waking up, day after day, with nothing to look forward to, nothing to live for. 

He had even missed school. He hadn’t attended a real school he ran away from his last foster home. That was nearly six months ago. But as much as he wanted to go, he couldn’t. People would realize his legal guardians aren’t around. They’d report him to CPS and then he’d have to go back into the foster care system. That was the very last thing he wanted. He could never go back to that.

He couldn’t do it anymore, especially not without Shiro. He knew he wasn’t thinking straight when he grabbed the leftover painkillers from his makeshift kitchen, but he swallowed the whole bottle anyway. 

He doesn’t remember much of what happens after that. 

However, he can recall bits and pieces. He remembers Shiro carrying him out of his house in the dark. He remembers tears in both their eyes, he remembers Shiro screaming his name, the desperation in his voice as he pleads for Keith to stay awake. Shiro tells him later that he passed out anyway. The ride to the hospital was fifteen minutes, and Shiro claims it was the worst fifteen minutes of his life. 

The next clear memory he has is when he’d awoken in a hospital bed. He frantically searched around to see Shiro asleep in a chair near his bed. He looked like a wreck. His hair was a mess, there were bags under his eyes, and he looked absolutely miserable. Keith felt so guilty. 

But before he even dwelled on it, the panic set in. He impulsively ripped out the IV from his hand and pulled back the covers from his bed, and Shiro woke immediately when Keith began screaming. “Shiro! You gotta get me out of here!”

“You aren’t going anywhere, Keith.” He’d said softly, standing to push him back onto the bed gently and pulled up the covers again. Keith struggled a bit before looking at Shiro. He looked so upset that Keith stilled almost immediately. “Please,” Shiro begged, “do this for me.”

The desperate exhaustion in his tone made Keith start to cry. 

“Shiro,” he sobbed. When he hid his face in his hands, he realized he was shaking. “I can’t go into foster care again! They’re gonna take me away from my house! They’re gonna take me away from you!”

“This could be good for you,” he tried to reason. Keith felt a terrible weight in stomach for subjecting Shiro to this. At twenty-three years old, he shouldn’t have had the responsibility of raising a teenage boy. He should’ve been out having fun, not sitting in the ER. “Maybe it didn’t work out last time, but you need to try. You could find a family that loves you, Keith. It could be a really good thing.”

“You don’t want me anymore either.” The sentence was a sob, muffled by Keith’s hands covering his face. He knew how pathetic he sounded, but he needed to make sure Shiro was with him if he had to keep living. Even though he would never deserve him. He curled himself up in the corner of the bed, as far away from Shiro as he can get. He felt even more abandoned than he had the previous night. “Is that why you didn’t call?”

“God, no, Keith. I’d never do that to you. I didn’t call because I was coming to visit you. I wanted to show up at midnight and surprise you, but I was running a bit late. Thank god I got there when I did or you might’ve…” Shiro sighed and outstretched a hand to comb through Keith’s matted hair. He calmed down a bit from the touch, but, feeling pathetic and vulnerable, Keith avoided his gaze. Of course Shiro had been trying to do something wonderful for him. He sure had one hell of a way of repaying him. He could barely even fathom how much an ER visit would cost without any insurance. 

“They’re gonna report me to CPS now, right?”

“I already discussed your situation with them,” Shiro sighed. “I just really want you to give this a try again. You’re older now. It could be really great.” 

Keith crossed his arms over his chest in a slight rebuttal, but in truth, he’d already given in. He owed this to Shiro, after everything he’d done for him. “Okay.”

“Really? I’m proud of you for trying this, it’s a really big step for you.” Shiro hugged him, a bit bone-crushing. He’d still been weak from getting his stomach pumped, but it was comforting to have Shiro near him again. “And Keith?”

“Yeah?” He replies, and it was muffled by his shoulder. 

“I’m gonna kill you the moment you get out of this hospital bed,” he deadpanned, causing Keith to laugh a bit. Shiro pulled away to look him in the eye and, truth be told, it overwhelmed Keith a little bit. “Don’t ever scare me like that again, okay?”

“Okay.” And it’s the most important promise Keith ever made in his life.  
\---

But now, Shiro’s gone again, and Keith’s world is collapsing. It’s just as bad as when he lost him at seventeen to Kerberos. And when he thought he was alone at sixteen. However, this time he doesn’t want to die. In fact, he reckons he never really wanted to die back then, even when he tried to, because he was just upset, not thinking straight. He was just hurt and sad and angry and alone. Which ended up being a recipe for disaster. 

He spends the day in a bad mood, but no one questions it. He’s a little hurt that Lance doesn’t pick up on it, but it’s not worth the argument anyway. Deciding that he hasn’t gotten anything accomplished wallowing, he decides to take a nap. 

After what seems to be a few hours, he wakes up to Lances kissing his neck, sucking dark hickeys into his pale skin. He is most definitely not in the mood. “Get _off_.”

Lance ignores him and continues to mark his collarbone. “Why are you so grumpy today? Let me make you feel better.”

“I said. _Get. Off_.” With that, he pushes Lance off him. He rolls off the bed and lands on the floor with a thud. In all honesty, Keith doesn’t know why he’s being so harsh, but Lance just doesn’t understand his frustration. 

“Jeez, Keith, what is your _problem?_ ” He yells, standing up and angrily brushing himself off. Keith stands up to face him, chest to chest, both heaving in anger. Lance’s expression is one of pure contempt, and for a second, Keith is apologetic. Until Lance’s next exclamation, and then his irritation is renewed. “You can’t just be angry all the time!”

“Watch me!” He snarls as Lance steps back cautiously. He almost seems scared of him. But nonetheless, he rolls his eyes, followed by an irate glare. Keith is officially sure he’s ruined everything.

“Rather not, thanks.” Lance leaves the room without another word.  
\---- 

Keith cools down pretty quickly after the instance, but Lance seems to give him space after that. He doesn’t approach him to get off. Or for anything else. It kinda sucks, if Keith was honest. 

But a few days later, Lance barges into his room. 

“It was your birthday.”

He doesn’t reply. There isn’t really a question to his words. 

It wasn’t that he cared about celebrating. In fact, he didn’t even care that they forgot his birthday – even though they’d spent a week celebrating the birthdays of everyone else in the castle when it was time. Maybe he did care a little bit, but it didn’t matter. It wasn’t important. He wasn’t important. They needed to focus on finding Shiro. 

So naturally, he is nothing short of surprised when Lance practically throws himself on him. He isn’t used to hugs. It takes him a few seconds to actually reciprocate the action. Lance nuzzles into his neck, and Keith feels stupidly warm. Content. Comfortable. Happy. 

It’s so sincere that Keith almost chokes on his breath. He allows himself to cling to Lance, to bask in his warmth, to be consumed by his smell. He wonders if this is what home feels like, but quickly shakes off the thought. No strings attached. Just sex. 

Still, the whisper against his skin raises the hair on the back of his neck.

“I’m sorry we forgot about you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come talk to me on [tumblr](https://koganewest.tumblr.com/)   
> -lily


	3. Not Holding On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *brief mentions of child abuse*

Keith thinks he's in heaven. 

He's pressed up against his bedroom doorway, with Lance attached to his neck. He's sucking dark, angry marks into the skin there, muttering to himself about god knows what. It could be Spanish, for all Keith knows (or cares, quite frankly), because Lance is then down on his knees, nosing at his crotch. Keith's hands find the boy's hair, and he groans as Lance unzips his jeans and mouths at the wet patch in his briefs. 

And before he knows it, Lance is swallowing down on his cock and, yeah, Keith thinks he's in heaven. 

There’s a breathtaking beauty to Lance, so gorgeous that Keith has to look away. He tosses his head back to lean against the wall and closes his eyes, moaning obscenely. He can feel one of Lance's hands wrapped around his base, as his lips picking up a steady rhythm. Keith eases his head farther down, and Lance obeys with earnest, fully deepthroating him now. 

He looks down as he feels Lance's nose against his skin. Lance looks up at him, eyes a little watery, but still confident, almost smirking. He keeps eye contact with Keith as he tries to go down even further but gags a bit. Lance knows him too well. He _knows_ Keith thinks that Lance choking on his cock is the hottest thing ever. He recovers quickly though and moans around Keith. The vibrations make his hands tighten in Lance's hair. 

Before long, Keith is coming down his throat. Lance swallows it all with ease and cleans up his dick with his tongue before tucking it back into his boxers. 

When Lance stands back up, face to face with him, he looks sinfully beautiful. His lips are red and swollen, his eyes are a bit watery, his pupils are wide, and now, he's rutting his erection against Keith. His voice is breathy in Keith's ear and it sends shivers up his spine. "Please, I just, ah, need-" 

He barely has time to finish the request before Keith is on his knees and returning the favor.  
____ 

Keith complains a lot about being in space, but in all honesty, it’s a great thing for him. Obviously he never thought intergalactic war would be what kept his mind off things, but it turns out to be a good distraction. He used to just sit around in his shack and drive himself crazy. The solitude of it was terrible. 

There isn’t a lot of downtime in war. But he still lies awake at times he should be sleeping, he still has issues. Because his past is painful. He remembers it in bits and pieces. Sometimes he misses his father. Sometimes he thinks about the last conversation they had.  
____ 

"When's mommy coming back?"

It was a weighted question, directed at his father sitting across from him. They were at what might be considered a dinner table, but in reality it was just a few boxes stacked up, along with two folding chairs set in the middle of the empty living room. 

He knew he shouldn't have asked, and his regret was confirmed as soon as he sees his father's shoulders slump. So Keith tried to justify himself. "I just want her to be back for when I turn nine," he explained.

"We can talk about this later, Keith," his father informed sternly through clenched teeth. He's trying to be patient, Keith knew, but his father had never been the patient one. He supposed that was where he got his temper from. "Just eat your food." 

"But I just-"

"Not _now,_ Keith!" 

His father's tone put tears in his eyes as he pushed away his plate. "I'm not hungry anymore," he said shakily. But it was too late for timid behavior. The damage had been done; his father is angry. He slammed his fists on the makeshift table and stood. 

"You _will_ sit here and you _will_ finish your dinner, Keith Kogane! Have I made myself clear?" He ordered. His tone was even, but his breathing was heavy. Keith knew his father is seething, so he cowered and returned to his seat. 

"Yessir." Keith didn’t know when he started to shake, but as he attempted to shovel a spoonful of peas to his mouth, it spilled everywhere. 

"Goddammit, Keith!" He shouted, voice seemingly shaking the entire house. It was the last fragment of a sentence his father ever said to him. 

"I'm sorry!" He yelled frantically, pulling at the hair covering his face. It was just too much, too much, too much, and suddenly, Keith couldn’t handle anything. "I just miss her!" 

In retrospect, Keith knew his father was a good guy. He cared about his son. But there were only so many times a person can hear their son talk about the woman they no longer have, his wife, his son’s mother. Because, in retrospect, Keith knows now that his mother didn't just leave him. She left his father too. 

He figured that was why his father hit him. It was enough to make him pass out.  
____ 

When he woke up, it was the middle of the night, and he was in his bedroom. His father must've carried him there. His left eye was throbbing and sore, and his head ached. When he reached up to tangle a hand through his hair, he found it matted with blood, along with a lump where he most likely hit his head when he fainted. 

He didn’t think twice as he packed a book bag of his things, heading downstairs. He heard the TV on, so he snuck around toward the front door before realizing his father was asleep. He still had a liquor bottle clutched to his chest, empty in calloused hands. 

Keith left a note in his lap, in chicken scratch, in eight-year-old boy handwriting. _I'll find her for us,_ it read. He didn’t know why he signed his name. But he did. 

Looking back, he understands it was stupid to run away. But he was only eight years old, so he blamed it on impulsivity. And hurt. 

But he’d already forgiven his father for the night before, because Keith knew he was just frustrated and upset and probably didn't mean to take it out on him. He kissed his father's cheek, then slipped out the front door. 

It was the last time he ever saw his father.  
____ 

He walked until the sun rose. 

When he was finally able to see his surroundings, he spotted a farm in the distance. He was cold, scared, and hungry, so he thought it was his best option. It turned out to be farther than he realized, and when he got there, he must’ve looked like a vagabond: black eye, unkempt hair, all his belongings on his back. He was clad in black fingerless gloves he took from his dad's room. His knife was drawn, held provocatively in his right hand, above his head. 

The place was vacant. He lowered his knife, feeling foolish, as he inspected the abandoned farm. The only sign that indicated it might've been inhabited was some hay in what he assumed was a horse's stall. He deemed it a good spot to rest. 

When he woke up, he was a bit confused until he remembered that he left his home. By then, the sun had risen high in the sky. He figured it was around noon, but it didn’t really matter what time it was, because he needed something to drink, badly. 

There was a small pond on the farmland, which was both a surprise and a relief in Texas. It was probably where cattle drank, but Keith didn’t care. He was just so thirsty. 

It was as he's crouched over the water, frantically cupping his hands to his lips, when he realized running away was a bad idea. 

He decided to head back in the direction he came. He’d never find his mother, not out here, and certainly not by himself. He wasn’t sure if he was walking the right way, but he did so anyway. Things couldn’t possibly get any worse.  
____ 

He was wrong, though. It did get worse. 

He’s been lost for days without food, and he’d do absolutely anything for his father to rescue him. It was pouring rain, but he could hear animals in the distance. He was scared. So scared, so alone, so defenseless. So stupid. He thought for a minute in the night that he saw his father's truck, saw the familiar shattered headlights, but it was probably just a hallucination. 

Time passed, but Keith couldn’t keep track of it.

He figured it’d been about a week when he was awoken by a engine rumbling and a hand shaking his shoulder. He could barely open his eyes; they were gluey and sore from nutrient deficiency. 

He found a teenage boy looking down at him, concerned. "Hey kid, you alive?" Keith just nodded his head a bit in response and looked away. He heard the guy let out a sigh of relief. "Why are you here? Alone?" 

Keith lifted his head up again to look at the kid. He opened his mouth to respond but couldn’t form any words, due to the dehydration. He seemed to notice Keith struggling and restated himself. "Alright, never mind, we can talk later. Right now, you're coming with me." Keith was too desperate to refuse. If the guy turned out to be a creepy axe murderer, it wouldn't matter because Keith was pretty much dying anyway. Plus, the boy didn’t look too harmful. He asked, "Can you stand?" 

Keith shook his head miserably. The next thing he knew, he was being lifted into the passenger seat of the boy’s truck. He sat there a bit while the other boy sifted through his own belongings in the back. Eventually, he was face-to-face with a bottle of water and a granola bar. He quickly chugged down the entire water bottle, unwrapped the bar, and ate it, all in approximately three seconds. The boy laughed a bit as he started to drive. "I'm Shiro, by the way. Wanna explain your situation now?" 

"I ran away," he said quietly, looking down at his lap. Thankfully the boy, Shiro, didn’t ask any further questions about him. Keith listened to him ramble about how he's on his way to some pilot school with a weird name. It was a welcome distraction.

Keith decided he liked Shiro. Plus, he probably wasn’t some creepy axe murderer.  
____ 

"I think I'm almost home!" They were driving for a while when things began to look familiar to Keith. He looked to Shiro who smiles at him gently. 

"Good, so just direct me where to go and you'll be home." Shiro followed his instructions until they reached his house. But, as they drove up, Keith got a terrible feeling in his stomach. 

His father's truck was gone. 

Keith jumped from the car before Shiro even fully stopped, sprinting toward the front door. It was ajar. The moment he stepped in, he began to tremble with fear. 

The house was empty. 

Everything was gone. 

His father was gone. 

He didn’t even realize he was shaking when Shiro gathered him in his arms. "Hey, hey, kid, it's okay," he soothed, but it didn’t matter, it didn’t help, it didn’t change anything. "It's gonna be okay." 

But it wasn’t okay. Because now Keith was an orphan.  
____ 

To this day, Keith still has nightmares about his time lost in the desert, before Shiro saved him. 

It's one of those nights again, but this time when he wakes, he isn't alone. Lance is staring down at him. Concerned. Questioning. 

The previous night, Lance had crawled into his bed at an ungodly hour and pleaded for a distraction. But after they had fooled around, he guessed they just fell asleep in his bed together. Still, he didn’t have time to regret anything because Lance was inching closer to him. 

"Are you, like, okay?" Lance questions cautiously, while running a hand through Keith's hair. The gesture makes him nervous. He sits up and tries to pretend his face didn't just heat up and his stomach isn't churning. He tenses and backs away. 

"Why wouldn't I be?" 

"Well, I woke up when you were being, like, restless," he replies, not meeting Keith's eyes anymore. It makes him sick to think Lance witnessed such a vulnerability in him, such a flaw. He hates how pathetic it all is. Still, Lance doesn’t seem to judge him. "So I tried to wake you up, but you - you wouldn't respond. You kept mumbling, and you were almost, I don't know, calling out for your mom and dad, for Shiro." 

Keith most definitely imagines the edge to Lances voice. He couldn't possibly be jealous that he said Shiro's name in his sleep. _He doesn't care about you,_ Keith reminds himself. 

But he can't do this. He can't sit here and talk to Lance about this. It's too intimate. It'll kill him, he's certain. 

He's out the door before Lance can even protest. Most of his clothes are still on the floor.  
____ 

He ignores Lance for a few days after that, but it’s mostly due to how busy they’ve been fighting the Galra. And maybe a bit of embarrassment on Keith’s part. But eventually there’s a knock on his door and he knows exactly who it’s going to be. 

“Come in,” he shouts and the doors open to reveal Lance. Any hope that he could avoid confrontation about that night dissipates. “Look, I’m really not in the mood to talk right now.”

“I didn’t come here to talk.”

“Okay, well, I’m really not in the mood for anything else either,” he sighs, assuming Lance was here to get off. At least he isn’t trying to pry information out of him, but Keith just doesn’t have the energy for anything at all. They’d been in battle for nearly an entire day, and they just got back. He can’t sleep though, he’s too wound up from fighting. 

“I’m not here for that either!” Lance exclaims defensively, as if Keith was so wrong to assume that Lance, his friend (rival?) with benefits, approached him for sex. “I actually was gonna ask if you wanted to play video games with me?”

Keith is about to outwardly deny the offer when he thinks about it. It’s honestly not a bad idea. It’s mindless enough to not exhaust him too much, but consuming enough to keep his thoughts away from his problems. Leave it to Lance to have a perfect solution to everything. “Okay.”

“Really?” He asks incredulously. It hurts Keith a little that Lance thought he’d say no, but in his defense, he was about to. “Okay, I’m gonna go set it up! Meet me in my room in 10 minutes.” 

“I’ll help,” Keith offers quietly. He’s a little bad at these things. He’d never really had a friend to play video games with. In fact, he’s never touched a controller in his life. He decides not to tell Lance that and follows him to set up the console he and Pidge bought. 

It’s easy from then on, no real conversation between the two, besides the occasional “pass me that” or “plug that in”. It’s useful for keeping Keith’s brain occupied. By the time the screen lights up and theme music plays, Lance looks a bit drowsy. The smile on his face is nothing less than brilliant though. “We did it!” 

“Yeah, we did,” he replies with a fond smile on his face. He takes the controller Lance hands him and sits on the floor. Lance settles next to him, and Keith looks over. “Ready?” 

“Definitely,” he replies, and they each start. 

It’s an absolute disaster. 

Keith has absolutely no idea what he’s doing or where he’s going, and Lance beats him so bad for a few tries before he asks Keith why he’s so terrible. When Keith admits that he’s never played any sort of video game before, Lance looks appalled. 

“You’ve never played a video game before?!” Keith shakes his head, a bit pathetically. “You’ve never had an Xbox?!” He shakes his head again. “A PlayStation?!” Again. “Not even a Wii?!” And again. 

When Keith looks at him, he can’t help the smile on his face. Lance looks practically comical, with his eyes wide, eyebrows raised, mouth open. 

“Jeez, Keith,” he laughs, “did you even have a childhood?” 

Keith’s gaze drops to the floor, and he tries to pretend that the comment didn’t sting. But it does, and he goes quiet. Maybe Lance notices, maybe he doesn’t, but the way he clears his throat awkwardly makes Keith think he definitely regretted his choice of words

“Well,” Lance says decisively, “I guess I have a lot to teach you, then.”  
____ 

They end up playing for a few varga, way longer than Keith had intended. The time passes quickly. It’s a lot of playful shouting from Lance, a lot of embarrassed blushing from Keith. He’s constantly giving orders that Keith doesn’t understand. He falls off the same cliff more times than he’d like to admit. 

Eventually Keith gets the hang of it (somewhat) and he’s yelling at the screen just as much as Lance. He gets so frustrated with losing that he makes an offer to Lance. “If you let me win, _just once,_ I’ll give you a blowjob.”

It’s almost a reminder to himself that Lance isn’t here to be friendly. They’re fuck buddies; they aren’t friends. Still, Keith is almost surprised at how forward he was, and it seems to have the same effect on Lance. His face goes red, and his concentration breaks from the screen. Lance’s avatar dies and they reach a game over. “Did you just… What?” 

“I’m offering incentive,” he clarifies. Looking up at Lance through thick eyelashes, he bites his bottom lip and attempts to look appealing. “Let me win.” 

Lance has never been the kind of person to let people win. Keith knows he’s competitive, that this might actually kill him. However, he also knows he would never turn down a blowjob. Lance still looks flustered as he clicks to start a new game. 

It doesn’t take long for Keith to take the lead. When he look so over to Lance, he isn’t even looking at the screen. He’s got a hand down his pants, watching Keith with sinful eyes. He takes the opportunity to kill Lance’s avatar. 

“Finally!” He shouts in triumph. When he turns to gloat, Lance has laid back, tossing the remote in the process, to stretch his arms over his head. His baggy sweatpants are tented at his crotch. Keith doesn’t care yet; he’s high off his victory. “Did you see? I won!” 

The excitement fades to something more akin to lust when he looks at Lance a bit longer. He looks absolutely gorgeous, looking at Keith with half lidded eyes. He seemingly doesn’t care that Keith has won, based on the way he folds his arms behind his head. Keith takes a moment to observe how breathtaking Lance is, laid out for him, hard for him, waiting for him. 

Keith doesn’t waste another second. He eagerly settles between Lance’s parted legs and pulls at his pants. 

“The thing is,” he says while pulling Lance’s boxers down, “this was a win-win for me.” He knows Lance is too turned on to form a coherent thought, so he teases him even more by licking from the base of his cock to the tip. He briefly attaches his lips to the head, then pulls off with a pop. One of Lance’s hands grasps at his hair. 

“Okay, champion,” Lance teases. “Come on, already.” It’s all the convincing Keith needs.  
____ 

Keith swallows around Lance as he comes. “Holy shit,” Lance pants, “you’re too good at that.”

“And you’re complaining?” He asks sarcastically, watching with amusement as Lance shakes his head tiredly. He comes up to kiss at Lance’s neck. 

He spends a few minutes lazily making marks on his collarbones. He starts to notice that Lance’s breathing has evened out. When he pulls away and examines the boy underneath him, he finds him asleep. Keith laughs quietly, and whispers mostly to himself, “you’re the worst.” 

Of course Keith can’t leave him to sleep on the floor. He debates waking him up, but he figures Lance deserves some rest. After all, he’d taught Keith how to play video games, been his distraction when he needed it. 

So Keith gathers him up in his arms and carries him to his bed across the room. It’s a minor gesture. It doesn’t mean anything. When he places Lance in his bed, he stirs a little but doesn’t wake. Keith pulls the covers up over him, thinks about how he could just run his fingers through his hair, or how he could kiss his forehead.

He doesn’t do any of that though. It would be creepy and most definitely pushing boundaries of a ‘just sex’ agreement. But as he turns to leave, he hears Lance mumble something incoherent. He faces him as he speaks again. “Keith?” 

“Yeah?” He replies, studying Lance’s face for some kind of answer. Instead, he just looks drowsy. 

“I, uh,” he begins, then pauses. He seems lost, eyes foggy, unfocused. He rubs at his face lazily. “Nevermind, thanks.” 

“No problem, Lance.” 

He smiles. When the doors close behind him, he’s still smiling.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter is super angsty so beware!! but then again they pretty much all are
> 
> come talk to me on [tumblr](https://koganewest.tumblr.com/)   
> -lily


	4. A Lullaby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> more sex and pining ;)

Keith learns the hard way that Lance has a public sex kink.

The whole team is seated around the table, eating a meal together. Hunk had spent nearly an hour in the kitchen preparing it, and as usual, it was nothing less than amazing. They'd sort of taken an off day from the war, hanging back on defense just in case anything happened. It was a well needed rest.

They're discussing plans when Keith feels a hand on his leg. He looks to Lance at his side, who continues talking to Pidge as if he isn't making Keith hard in front of everyone. The hand begins to caress the inside of his thigh, before moving to cup his bulge. Keith chokes on his water.

"You okay?" Hunk asks, cautiously eyeing Keith.

"Yeah, fine." The reply is clipped. But if anyone notices, they don't acknowledge it. He focuses on Lance’s face, widens his eyes at him in warning. He wants to scream at Lance to stop before he embarrasses himself in front of everyone, but he keeps quiet as Lance skillfully unzips his pants.

Keith decides it’s too far. Too much. Absolutely not. He forcefully kicks Lance under the table.

“You sure you’re okay, Keith? You seem a little…worked up,” Lance asks him. He’s a piece of shit. There’s this devilish smirk on his face and a mocking eyebrow raised. Keith is going to kill him.

“Nope, I’m fine. Lovely. Wonderful.” He practically snarls through clenched teeth. He kicks Lance again, who frees Keith’s erection from his briefs in response. He gives a few tugs, then rubs his thumb over his tip. Keith’s breathing gets erratic, and he knows his face is flushed red in embarrassment.

Everyone’s looking at him weird, which Lance seems to absolutely love. He’s quickly jerking him off while looking completely nonchalant. In fact, he even continues eating with his left hand. Keith can’t do anything but sit there, frozen, hoping no one notices.

But right as he’s about to come, Lance removes his hand. Leaning over, he whispers in Keith’s ear, “I wanna watch you finish yourself off.”

Keith just obeys without argument. He blocks out the conversation Pidge and Hunk are having with Allura, just focuses on Lance’s face as he grabs his dick, strokes himself until he gets cum all over his pants. Lance is watching intently, practically drooling. Keith notices he’s hard.

It’s not until now that he realizes that he can’t stand up without people seeing the mess on his pants. He looks frantically at Lance, who just shrugs at him. They’re gonna have to wait until everyone leaves the table.

Lance seems totally unfazed. Keith decides he’s insane.  
____

Later that day, the castle is attacked by a fleet of Galra fighters who, luckily, don’t seem to have any real plan. In fact, they don’t even need to form Voltron to take them all down. However, Keith is momentarily blindsided during the battle, gets struck by lasers and thrown far from the action. And without a second’s hesitation, Lance follows him, calling his name in desperation.

All which lead Keith to realize something: they’ve gotten closer recently.

Since the time they played video games together, they’re more comfortable around each other. When they argue, it’s way more playful than it is malicious. Sometimes they actually talk after sex. Sometimes they just lay around and don’t say anything. Sometimes they make out for the sole purpose of making out, with no intention of taking it further. It’s almost scary to Keith. He’s never really trusted anyone like this before. But they’re closer now. Definitely.

Keith supposes that’s why he stays when he finds Lance in the observatory.

“Lance?” He calls as he approaches. Said boy jumps in surprise and turns to face Keith. The usual light in his eyes is absent. It’s a rare sight, to see his hair messy, cheeks red, eyebrows knit in concern. The vacancy in his expression scares Keith a little. It creates this fiery ache in his chest, a desire to get rid of anything that could be troubling Lance. He ignores it. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I mean,” Lance pauses and sighs, looking so exhausted. “I don’t really know.”

The barren spot next to him is unappealing, but he sits anyway. The green jacket Lance usually wears is nowhere to be seen; he looks almost foreign without it. There’s an uncharacteristic sag of his shoulders, a glaze over his eyes, a frown on his lips. Keith decides he hates all three. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re asking the wrong question. What isn’t wrong?” A sigh. “I’m stuck on this stupid ship in the middle of war. I haven’t seen my family in forever, so they probably think I’m dead. Or worse, they might think I abandoned them.” Another sigh.

At this point, Keith wished, more than anything, that he knew how to comfort people. He doesn’t even know what to say. All he can come up with is an apology. “It sucks, I know. I’m sorry.”

He supposes it doesn’t help much, because Lance seems to deflate even more. Keith watches him gaze up tiredly at the galaxies in front of them. It’d be quite beautiful if Lance wasn’t so miserable. “It’s just that we’re so far away. I feel so… disconnected.”

Lance shivers, which makes Keith take off his red jacket without even thinking. He reaches around to drape the jacket over Lance’s shoulders, who hugs it tight to himself. He leans over and rests his head on Keith’s shoulder.

It doesn’t seem very comfortable for Lance, who’s awkwardly bent due to his slight height advantage, but it’s enough. Keith can hear his breathing now, can feel his warmth, can smell his deodorant.

And yeah, maybe Keith wasn’t good at comforting people – maybe he had absolutely no idea what he was doing – but as he stretches his arm around Lance’s shoulder, tucks him into his side, Keith thinks he’s doing just fine.

They sit like that for a while until Lance separates himself to kiss Keith. Their lips meet with a gentle force. Their movements are slow, hesitant, because Keith doesn’t want to use Lance while he’s vulnerable. “Are you sure you really want this right now? You still seem upset.”

Lance stops sucking on his neck to breathe, hot underneath his ear. “Please, Keith,” he begs. “Just let me do this.”

So Keith lets him.

He can barely register what’s happened by the time Lance’s mouth is on his dick. With ease, he brings Keith to the edge of an orgasm, then pulls away. He looks down at Keith, who’s practically squirming as Lance mumbles distractedly to him. “Look incredible like this, Keith.”

“Please let me come,” he sobs desperately, but his begging doesn’t sway Lance at all, who stays quiet as he works his way up Keith’s neck with open-mouthed kisses. He reaches his lips and connects them. They make out like that for a few more minutes, slow and deep, until Keith has calmed down. He’s still worried about the way Lance is acting. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Stop asking me that.” His tone is harsh as he pulls away from Keith’s lips and flips him over. His guides Keith onto his hands and knees, who is expecting to be fucked. What he gets is almost better.

The desperate moan he lets out is borderline shameful, but he can’t find it in himself to be concerned. Lance’s hand are forcefully gripping his bare ass, and his face is buried between them. Lance is eating him out.

It only takes another few minutes to put Keith on the brink of orgasm again, but Lance pulls away again right as he’s about to. It makes Keith want to scream. “Jesus, Lance, stop teasing me already!”

The other boy doesn’t reply. Instead, he rolls Keith over again and kisses him deeply to calm him down. Keith is getting a bit tired of it, but he loves the way Lance is being with him while they make out. It’s gentle and careful and, for the first time in a while, Keith feels important. That’s exactly how he knows something is wrong. Still, he doesn’t question it until Lance compliments him. “Fuck, you’re so gorgeous.”

“Lance, what’s wrong?” He tries again, for the third time that night. Something in Lance’s expression changes, though. He practically shoves two fingers into Keith, who lets out a groan.

“Just shut the fuck up, okay?” Any caution that Lance had previously is thrown to the wind. There’s only anger now. He thrusts his fingers in and out, in and out, in and out, and Keith just lays there and takes it. He’s so frustrated with being edged twice that everything feels good. He likes when Lance is rough with him, because he knows he can take it. Keith isn’t going to break.

But there’s a sadness in Lance’s eyes that distracts him. He can’t let him run away from problems like this. “Please, just talk to me, you can’t deal with problems like this-”

“I told you to keep your mouth shut,” Lance says, slowly and evenly, like a warning. His tone is almost frightening. Keith’s rebuttal is cut off by a hand over his mouth. When Lance meets his eyes, he begins to suck on his fingers. Lance looks at him with such an incredulity and lust that Keith thinks he might just come right then and there. “Good boy.”

Keith whines at this and gets impossibly harder – he might just have a praise kink – and looks at Lance with pleading eyes. Instead of placating him, Lance just removes his fingers and watches as Keith squirms in disappointment. He leans down to brush the hair out of Keith’s face that’s plastered there with sweat. “Beg for me.”

“Mmf,” is all Keith can reply. It’s a simple instruction, but Lance’s hand is still in his mouth. He seems to realize this and moves it away, allowing Keith to speak. “Please just, come on already!”

“What do you want me to do?” Lance asks, with a sly expression on his face. He knows Keith has difficulty articulating what he wants on a regular basis, let alone during sex. Keith knows his face is red and he’s so humiliated, but he also knows if he doesn’t do this, he won’t get what he wants.

So he does what Lance wants: he begs. And that’s all the encouragement Lance needs before he’s easing Keith’s legs around his waist and pounding him into the mattress.

When Keith finally, finally, gets to come, he practically screams. Lance follows right after, panting in his ear. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

One of Keith’s favorite things in the world is Lance post-orgasm. He’s spent as he collapses onto Keith, nuzzles into his neck and rubs his thumbs over the marks he made there. Keith loves the weight on top of him, loves the way that Lance just completely encompasses him. He doesn’t want to end the moment, but he needs to address Lance’s behavior. “Wanna talk know?”

“No.”

“You should really talk about what’s wrong,” Keith sighs, exasperated, disappointed, as Lance pulls away from him and stands. He shoots Keith a glare as he pulls on his pants in a hurry.

“Sure, and you should really talk about why you were pacing all last night,” he huffs in defense. There’s a common understanding that neither are going to give in. Keith sits up, folds his arms over his bare chest and studies Lance. He feels so disconnected from him.

Lance is standing at the door to the observatory, looking even worse than he did when Keith first got their. Now, his hair sticks up in every direction, his face is flushed and glistening with sweat, clothes unkempt and wrinkled. His features are filled by the lighting, which only reinforces the despair in his eyes.

“Thanks for the distraction, Keith.” And with that, he’s gone.  
____

Keith is having trouble adjusting to being a leader.

He doesn’t want to replace Shiro. He doesn’t want to lead the team. He doesn’t know what to do or how to do it. He finds himself in the training room more often than not, trying to force the weaknesses from his body. There’s nothing that can convince him he shouldn’t be out looking for Shiro, but Allura has locked the hangar. They need him here.

Things have been a bit draining for him lately. In addition to Shiro’s disappearance, Keith’s been thinking about the Blade of Marmora.

The Trials of Marmora had taken a lot out of Keith.

He was weak and limping by the time he returned to the castle, knife clutched tightly in his left fist. When they introduced Kolivan to Allura and the others, he had masked the pain he was in. But as soon as it’s over, Shiro had helped him to his room.

“Doesn’t look good,” he noted at the wound on his shoulder. Keith was so numb that he barely felt it. He didn’t bother responding, just let his head hang in exhaustion. “Go to bed, Keith. You need to heal.”

Keith thinks about this moment a lot. He could’ve easily turned to Shiro, told him how much he meant to him. Thanked him for everything he’d done. Hugged him.

Instead, he’d just let Shiro walk out and decided to shower. He’d let the hot water burn his skin. It made him feel a bit more alive, even while his mind was completely blank.

His hair was wet and cold on his neck when his head finally hit the pillow. It didn’t matter. He passed out immediately.

Thinking about that day gets Keith angry. Angry at his father for not telling him who he was. Angry at Shiro for trusting him with leading the team when he can’t even manage himself. Angry at his mother for abandoning him before he could even understand what was happening. Angry at her for leaving him and his father. Angry at her for being Galra. For making him galra.

He doesn’t even think twice when he punches the wall of the training room.

His knuckles bleed a little, so when he calms down he goes out in search of some gauze. When he approaches the (Altean equivalent of a) bathroom, there’s music coming from the door. He isn’t really in the mood to talk to Lance, but he doesn’t want the blood staining his jacket, so he knocks.

“Come in!” He calls, probably assuming it’s Hunk or Pidge or Coran or anyone other than Keith, truthfully. The surprise on his face when he walks in confirms the suspicion. “What’s up?”

“Just need something to fix up my knuckles,” he says, gesturing toward his hand. Lance has something weird on his face – a mask maybe? Keith isn’t exactly an expert in this field. He smells clean and fresh. Keith almost envies it.

“Jeez, Keith, what did you do?!” There’s concern on his face as he takes his hand to examine it. Then, he’s rummaging through drawers and pulling out band aid-like materials.

“Punched a wall,” Keith mumbles, head hanging in embarrassment.

“You’re ridiculous,” Lance laughs while shaking his head in mock disappointments. He dresses the wound skillfully and leans down to kiss his hand. Why would he do that? Keith blushes furiously. “All better.”

“What was that for?” He’s flustered as he questions Lance, who just shrugs like it’s nothing. Keith’s stomach is churning with nervousness. Things had been a bit strained between the two of them ever since the night in the observatory, so Keith is more than confused by the gesture.

“I always do that for my younger siblings. You know, like what moms do. Kiss the pain away. It’s just habit, sorry.” It’s Lance who looks embarrassed now. He’s got this sheepish grin on his face, accompanying a blush, that makes him wish he hadn’t done it.

“Oh,” is all Keith can muster. He doesn’t know. He never had a mother around to do things like kiss away pain. Instead, his mother inflicted pain. “It’s fine,” he admits. “Kinda nice, actually.”

“Uh, alright,” Lance clears his throat. Shyness is uncharacteristic for him, though endearing. “Anyway, do you wanna stick around for a bit? I know you just wanted a band-aid, but-”

“I don’t really feel like doing anything right now. Sorry.” It’s awkward. Keith doesn’t often turn down sex with Lance.

“No, that’s not what I meant. Like, do you want to do a face mask?” He asks, rubbing the back of his neck. Keith looks at him like he has three heads. “Okay, okay, you can just say no.”

“Oh, I just, well, I want to, I mean, uh, sure?” He stutters frantically. Lance laughs at his rambling and starts looking through the products on the countertop. He decisively grabs a labeled tube and squeezes some onto his fingertips. He beckons Keith forward. “Close your eyes.”

Keith does as he’s told. When the cold substance meets the skin below his eyes, he inhaled sharply and flinches. Lance is unaffected by his reaction as he massages the mask onto his face. “Now try not to be so expressive! It’ll dry wrong,” Lance jokes, to which he earns a passive aggressive eye roll.

“So now what?”

“I don’t know, we talk about things! That’s what girls do in the movies!”

“I don’t have anything to talk about besides the fact we’re at war with a whole race we never knew existed?”

“Ugh, you’re a terrible conversationalist!” Lance whines. “I guess we’ll just listen to music.”

They sit there for a few minutes, not talking, when Keith realizes he’s actually a lot more relaxed than he was before. He looks over at Lance, who’s got his eyes shut as he gently hums along with the music. Keith lets himself stare for a little longer than he’s proud of. What harm could it do? Lance would never know.

But one eye opens and Keith looks away immediately, flushing red. Lance laughs, “were you staring at me?”

“What? No, I wasn’t- I mean,” Keith stutters. “Your thing is dry. The mask.”

“Oh. Thanks.” He begins peeling off the mask while Keith tests his own. It isn’t quite dry yet, but he attempts to take it off anyway. He can’t sit here much longer without doing anything. He’s getting antsy. Lance stops him, “it’s not gonna come off right if you do that now! Stop, just let me help.”

Keith relents as he picks up a weird looking hair dryer and blows cool air onto his face. Lance starts to laugh. “What? What are you laughing at?!”

“Your hair,” he giggles. Keith can feel his hair blowing around like crazy; he silently curses the fact that he lets it grow out. But then Lance combs his fingers through it, twirls a piece around his fingers idly. “It’s really soft.”

“Thought you hated my hair,” Keith smirks, earning a playful tug in return.

“Maybe. But it’s still soft,” he says. There’s something gentle about his touch as he rearranges Keith’s hair and shuts the dryer off. “Okay, now it’s dry. You can take it off.”

“Finally,” Keith mumbles, mostly to himself. Once he peels off the mask, he touches his cheek. He has to admit, his skin feels a lot softer. When he looks in the mirror, he’s surprised to see his face is red. “Am I supposed to look like this?”

“Nothing to worry about,” Lance dismisses. He’s cleaning up the mess he made, putting away various different bottles. “It’ll go away in a bit.”

“How come you didn’t look like this?” He pouts, folding his arms over his chest. He fixes his hair a little and turns to Lance, who isn’t red at all.

“Cause it’s your first time actually taking care of your skin. When you get used to it, it won’t happen.” He reaches out to touch Keith’s cheek, brushes his thumb gently over it. “Either that, or you’re just really delicate.”

“I am not delicate!”

“Course not, Samuari.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think chapters will be around 3k words?? is that a good length?? idk?? also i found a beta!! special thanks to sasha (@/somefreshnonsense on tumblr) for helping me out!!! much appreciated:)
> 
> come talk to me on [tumblr](https://koganewest.tumblr.com/)   
> -lily


	5. Give Me Something

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pining, sex, and more pining

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wrote this before season 6 so you’ll just have to deal with canon inconsistencies sorry

Keith has got him pressed against the wall of his bedroom when Lance asks to bottom. Keith immediately stops sucking on his neck and looks up at him, dumbstruck. He watches as Lance licks his lips nervously and meets his questioning gaze. 

“I just wanna try,” he explains warily. Keith raises his eyebrows at him as Lance places his hands at the base of his neck. “Besides,” he laughs a bit, “it’s gotta be good, considering the way you act when you bottom.”

“I don’t _act_ when I – what do you even mean?” Keith questions incredulously. Lance laughs at his expression so Keith crosses his arms over his chest, steps away from Lance, and waits for an answer. 

“Keith, you literally become a pornstar,” he giggles. Lance pulls him close again and pries his arms away from himself, placing them gently back on his own hips. Keith hates the way he relaxes into it. Still, he raises an eyebrow at the boy in front of him for more elaboration. “Well, not literally. But like, the moment I get inside you, you’re absolutely _gone._ ” He snaps his fingers for emphasis and Keith feels his face heat up.

“I am not!”

“You are!” Lance laughs again. Keith savors the sound. “Then when I start to, y’know, pick up the pace –” he grips Keith’s hands with force now and ruts against his thigh, “– you make these noises and, like, you sound like you’re straight out of some video.”

“I do not!” Keith interjects. He’s defensive now, partly because this is an embarrassing conversation, but mostly because of the way Lance is manhandling him.

Lance leans forward just slightly to kiss the tip of his nose. If he wasn’t beet red before, he most definitely is now. “You do. It’s so hot to watch you like that. So I wanna try.”  
___ 

It takes a lot of prepping to get Lance feeling comfortable. 

Of course Keith doesn’t mind; in fact, he relishes in it. Lance is whiny and pliant under his skilled fingers, because it isn’t hard for Keith to find his prostate – he’s done this to himself millions of times. And when he does, he keeps his fingers crooked in the same position just to hear Lance moan. 

Keith thinks there’s no way he could ever compare to what Lance looks like right now. He looks absolutely ethereal, stretched out underneath Keith. His arms are above his head, hands clutching the posts at the head of the bed. He’s twisting, squirming against the sheets, panting Keith’s name in broken repetition. Absolutely breathtaking.

Keith shifts down further on the bed to mouth at his cock. It takes a particularly hard thrust at his prostate and Lance is gasping, “Keith, holy shit, okay you gotta stop or I’ll come before you even fuck me.”  
Keith smiles softly at him before leaning down to kiss behind his ear. He knows it’s one of Lance’s weak spots. He also knows it’s a bit too intimate for _just sex,_ but truthfully, he doesn’t care. Running a hand through his hair gently, he whispers, “I wouldn’t mind that at all.”

Having Lance under his control, completely at his will, is messing with his head a little. He needs to dial it down before things get messy. 

Thankfully, Lance ignores the comment and squeezes lube into his hand. He carefully coats Keith’s dick - which is admittedly smaller compared to Lance’s, though he’d never admit it. In just a few coaxing tugs, Keith is groaning desperately. He notices Lance looks a bit hesitant. “Are you sure about this? You don’t have to if you’re scared. You know that.”

At this, he sees Lance swallow resolutely. “No, I want this. I’m ready, come on.”

So Keith hitches his legs around his waist and pushes in just barely. When Lance winces, Keith stops himself. He knows the feeling from experience, knows he needs time to adjust, knows a dick is just nothing like fingers. He waits until Lance urges him to move. 

He eases in steadily, gauging Lance’s reactions the whole time to ensure he isn’t in pain. When he finally bottoms out, Lance lets out a heavy breath and Keith is panting. It’s inexplicably difficult to be gentle when he’s so turned on, when Lance is _so painfully tight_. But then the boy underneath him tenses his legs around his waist. “C’mon, Keith,” he urges, “I’m not going to break.”

So he picks a steady rhythm and thrusts repeatedly into Lance with as much restraint as he can manage. He still doesn’t want to hurt him, so Lance groans and throws his head back. “Look,” he chokes out, sounding strained, “I know you’re trying not to hurt me, but I’m so turned on right now.” He wraps his arms around Keith’s neck. “So I’m gonna need you to stop being so gentle with me.” 

Keith does what he’s told.  
____ 

It’s been a few minutes since they’ve finished. Keith is lying on Lance’s chest, tucked under his neck. They’re both breathing evenly. Keith doesn’t think he’s ever been so content, there in Lance’s arms. 

Lance has a bad habit of falling asleep right after sex, so when Keith picks his head up to look at him, he isn’t surprised to see Lance already asleep. He contemplates staying there for the night, because there really isn’t anything better than sleeping curled up to someone else. Even though Keith wants nothing more than to be held, he shouldn’t do that to Lance, who never invited him to do so. 

So, reluctantly gathering his clothing, Keith pulls the covers up to Lance’s chin. He wants to kiss his forehead, to whisper goodnight. He doesn’t though. He just shrugs on his jacket and leaves. 

And he walks right into Pidge.

“Sometimes I hate being right.”

“What are you doing out here?! You scared me!” He yelps, glaring down at her. 

She shrugs. “I thought you and Lance were a thing, but Hunk didn’t believe me. He wouldn’t come with me though, says he doesn’t wanna know.” 

“What is _wrong_ with you- wait, no, we aren’t a thing!” He snaps defensively, folding his arms across his chest. 

“You’re leaving his room, barely half dressed, while we should be sleeping.” She raises an accusatory eyebrow at him. “What confuses me more, though, is why you’re leaving.”

“We aren’t in a relationship, if that’s what you mean.”

“Then explain.”

“Absolutely not,” Keith refuses, turning away from her and walking away. He purposely takes long strides in attempt to avoid her, but he knows she’s following him anyway. “Pidge, just let it be.”

“I just wanna know!” She whines, tugging on his jacket, “you never tell anyone anything!” 

“I know! I like it that way!”

“Keith, I’m going to keep bothering you until you tell me what’s going on.” They round the corner into the kitchen. Even though he wants to lock himself in his room away from Pidge, he’s starving. “I’ll make you food if you tell me.” 

He knows she won’t relent. He’s going to have to tell her anyway. He might as well get it over with, and get some food out of the deal. “Fine.”

“Really?!”

“Don’t make me regret this,” he warns, earning a nod in response from her. “We’re just, I don’t know. I honestly don’t. We’re just…casual.”

“Okay, that’s disgusting.”

“Well, now you know. Make me some food before I pass out, please.” Keith lays his head in his arms on the table. He tries to steady his breathing, calm himself down. Maybe he shouldn’t have told Pidge. Now everyone is going to find out, and Lance will stop talking to him, and-

His panic is interrupted by Pidge. “You’re okay with it?” 

“Okay? Of course I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be?” He lifts his head to look at her in confusion, but she isn’t paying attention to him. She shrugs as she prepares something for him. 

“Stop playing dumb, Keith,” she glares at him. “Be real with me for a minute.”

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about!” He says defensively. She just laughs a little and places the food in front of him. He shovels it into his mouth without hesitation, and it’s gone in nearly seconds. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she says incredulously, and it makes him feel stupid. Like she knows something he doesn’t. “Keith, you really have no clue, do you?” He shakes his head vehemently. “It seems like you have feelings for him.”

“I most definitely do not. I’m leaving. Goodbye.” He stands up and tugs his jacket closer to himself. He feels helplessly insecure. He definitely does not have feelings for Lance. It’s just sex. Nothing more. 

“Just hear me out, okay?” She instructs, grabbing at his hand, holding him back. “You can’t run from this. You can’t keep running. Sooner or later, you will have to face this. You’ll have to face yourself.”

Her words scare him. She’s right, of course, because she’s always right. He’s tired of running from everything. From his father, from his problems, from loneliness, from Lance. 

Lance. His face appears appears in Keith’s mind. Smiling at him, moaning his name, touching his cheek. He thinks back to when he saw him moment ago, asleep. Keith wonders about how he wanted to stay there, wrapped up in him, for the rest of his life. It’s then that he realizes. 

“I have feelings for him.”

“Yeah, no kidding. But it’s okay. Just let me know if you need anything.”

And that’s why he adores Pidge. She doesn’t make him talk about the emotional stuff; instead she offers support. “Thanks, Pidge.”

“No problem. But Keith?”

“Yeah?”

“If Lance ever decides to get you off under our dinner table again, I will make sure everyone knows it.”  
____ 

Looking for Shiro occupies most of Keith’s time these days. Countless galaxies seem to swallow him whole. Desperation eats away at his insides until there’s nothing left. _He_ has nothing left. 

He owes this to Shiro though. He owes his life to Shiro. 

He thinks about all the times Shiro would visit him at foster homes after he found him in the desert that day. Sometimes he even took him to lunch, and they’d spend an hour or two at a local diner. He’d listen as Shiro went on and on about his work at the Garrison, about the possibilities of his career. It was always the highlight of his month. 

As a kid, Keith always felt bad getting two orders of pancakes, knowing it was Shiro paying. But eating at the diner was the only real meal he got. There wasn’t a lot of food to go around at foster homes – not that he would ever tell Shiro. He didn’t stay long at each home, anyway. 

It wasn’t that Keith tried to get kicked out of the homes, it’s just that he didn’t try to stay. For the most part, he was placed with families who didn’t want him. Who would want him? His own parents hadn’t.

Most were just in it for the monthly paycheck, anyway. The money was supposed to be spent on his food, clothing, and anything else that he might need, but more often than not, he was neglected. But when he got placed in a house with a decent family, he tried not to get too attached. They’d eventually get rid of him too, claiming he was too cold and distant. He couldn’t blame them. 

Shiro was always there, though. Not once did Shiro ever give up on him, no matter how many times he screwed up. And that happened a lot. 

Sometimes when Keith would call Shiro, telling him he’d gotten kicked out of _another_ foster home, he’d get mad. There were plenty of times Shiro had yelled at him for the way he acted, for his brash actions, for his lack of concern. They’re some of Keith’s worst memories. He hates disappointing Shiro. 

He can’t disappoint Shiro. Which is why he can’t stop searching. He has to find Shiro. He owes this to him. 

But there’s only so much of the galaxy a teenage boy can search before his efforts start to feel hopeless. 

Still, suggestions of finding a new pilot for Black are painful. He supposes that’s the reason for his outburst at the diplomatic dinner. He can’t stand everyone ignoring Shiro’s absence. 

Later on, as he stares at the lifeless Black Lion, he knows his team is watching him. He doesn’t know why he’s in here, but Black is the only thing left of Shiro. It makes him feel just slightly more connected to him. 

Someone walks towards him. He already knows it’s Lance. 

“Hey man. Listen, we all miss Shiro. I remember what a thrill it was to meet him for the first time when the two of us carried him out of that garrison hospital.” Lance is at his side, gazing up at the lion with him. It’s a small comfort. 

“I grew up with my dad and Matt telling me stories about him. He was a legend at our house.” Pidge steps on his other side, followed by Hunk. 

“The guy taught everything I know about being a pilot,” Hunk adds. “Which isn’t much, but that’s more on me.”

“You’re not the only one hurting, man. We’re all right there with you.” Lance’s voice is soothing, he knows what he’s saying isn’t easy for Keith to hear. “But you know that he would be the first one to tell us that we have to move on.” He turns to Lance. They share an intense look for a long few seconds. 

“Keith, I know exactly how you feel,” Allura contributes. “But our mission is bigger than any one individual. Even those that are completely irreplaceable.”

And somehow, it’s exactly what he needed. They’re his team, and now they’re standing with him. 

“I know you’re right,” he admits, pausing to turn toward their biggest challenge. “It’s time to figure out how to reform Voltron.”  
____ 

He goes to Lance that night for a therapeutic fuck but gets a face mask instead.

“This is gonna help you way more, I promise,” Lance says, applying the mask to Keith’s cheeks. It’s cold in the bathroom since he’s only wearing a t-shirt, and the feeling of Lance’s fingers on his skin makes him shiver. The other boy seems to notice though, shedding his green jacket to drape over Keith’s shoulders. He tries not to let himself blush, because being aware of his feelings makes things a bit harder. 

“Thanks,” he smiles, then asks, “can we have sex after?” He pulls the jacket closer to himself. It smells like Lance. 

“Maybe.” 

They sit there in silence for a few minutes. The universe seems to swallow itself whole, until the only thing left in its wake exists solely in that bathroom. Just the two of them, eyes closed, side by side, Keith in Lance’s jacket. It’s comforting. 

Lance is the first to break it. “Can you believe my biggest concern on Earth was when I would settle down?” The look Keith gives him is inquisitive. “Like, when I would get married, have a bunch of kids… It seems so trivial now.”

“You still can do that,” Keith assures him, “we’re gonna end this war. I promise.” It’s a weighted statement; Keith truthfully can’t promise anything. He doesn’t even know if they both will survive. But he says it anyway because he wants to promise Lance that he’ll have a future. He wants to promise Lance the world. He wants to give him everything. “I still plan on doing all all that.”

“You?” Lance laughs, still not meeting his eyes. “You don’t seem like the type to want that kind of idealistic life. ‘Pessimist’ is practically your middle name.” 

Keith crosses his arms and pouts – as much as he can with this stupid face mask on. He’s actually a bit hurt by Lance’s words. “I’m not heartless.”

“Maybe not, but kids? I just didn’t think you’d want any, I guess.”

“I actually like kids,” he admits, avoiding Lance’s inquisitive gaze. Keith elaborates before he calls bluff, “I spent a lot of time around kids as a teenager.” 

This makes Lance smile. “Me too!” He exclaims, then seems to realize something. He knows Keith didn’t really have a family to visit on Earth, but that’s pretty much all he knows. Keith watches his confusion, watches him deliberate whether or not to ask. In the end, he does. “Did you have a babysitting job or something?”

“No,” Keith shakes his head, “well, sort of.” The silence he gets in return is Lance encouraging him to continue. “At the orphanages and foster homes, I was typically the oldest. I looked after the other kids.” He swallows thickly, trying not to miss the countless faces in his head. “They came and went, getting adopted and such, but I tried to make sure they knew people cared about them, that I cared about them.” 

There’s silence for a while. 

Then Lance, cautiously, testingly, lays his head on Keith’s shoulder. It’s the most affectionate thing he’s ever done to Keith. It makes his stomach flip, as Lance softly breaks the quiet atmosphere. “That’s really nice.” 

“Well, no one ever did it for me. Kids shouldn’t have to feel alone like that.” 

Lance straightens up, looking uneasy. It’s not a fun conversation, but there seems to be something else on his mind. “I’m sorry for what I said that day.” He apologizes, only receiving a confused look from Keith in response. “When I said you wouldn’t understand how we felt. I know it upset you, and when you disappeared for so many days, I felt so guilty, I just,” he sighs and fiddles with the hem of his shirt. “It wasn’t fair to bring up that your parents are dead, and I-”

“My parents aren’t dead, Lance.”

“Then…” He trails off, allowing Keith to explain. Except there isn’t much to explain. 

“They just didn’t want me.” 

He says it so casually that Lance’s eyes widen a bit, before his expression drops to one of pity. This is why he doesn’t tell people this. It’s better that people just think his parents are dead so he doesn’t have to deal with this. He isn’t going to cry. He isn’t sad about it. He no longer aches when he thinks about it, since he’s spent his entire life doing that. 

Regardless, he doesn’t really mind the hug Lance pulls him into. 

It’s a little awkward since they still have face masks on, but it’s still comforting. Keith appreciates it infinitely. Lance’s arms are strong and grounding around him; Keith’s are hesitant and guarded in return, but he tries to relax. This is okay. Everything’s okay. He’s safe. He lets himself be held. Lance has got him. 

When they finally pull apart, nothing is said. They pull off their own face masks in silence. When they’re both done, Keith impulsively takes Lance’s face in his hands and kisses him hard. He seems surprised at first but eventually melts into it. When they separate, Lance is looking at him weird. “What was that for?” 

_No reason,_ Keith wants to say. _Just felt like it. Just wanted you to know how much I appreciate you._

“You promised you’d fuck me,” is what he says instead. He’s lucky he’s quick at excuses. It’s much easier to blame his affection on something else. 

“Really?” Lance questions, almost knowingly. It’s a fair accusation, because how could anyone want to have sex after a conversation like that?

“Stress relief,” Keith offers. It’s not all that convincing, but it seems to fool Lance, who shrugs before ducking into kiss him.  
___ 

Lance is pounding him into the mattress when he pauses out of nowhere, still buried inside him. Keith’s face is pressed into a pillow and his ass in the air. Lance’s chest is pressed against his back, and he’s got Keith’s dick in his right hand. He pulls out abruptly and rolls him over.

“Why are you being so quiet?” Lance asks while attaching his lips to Keith’s neck. Keith had been trying to stay quiet while bottoming because of the conversation they’d had, when Lance compared him to a pornstar. He really didn’t want to be anything less than perfect, so he tried not to be loud. He’s spent the past 10 minutes with his lip bitten so hard he could cry as Lance drilled his prostate. He doesn’t reply to the inquiry, because he knows Lance knows the answer. 

“Oh come on, Keith. I _love_ the way you are in bed, okay? It’s so hot when you fall apart because of me. It’s the most flattering thing ever, that I can make you feel good. I can honestly get hard from just the noises you make, alright? So,” he lowers his voice to a whisper in Keith’s ear, “I want to hear you. Got it?”

He nods with earnest so Lance pushes back in. Keith doesn’t restrain the sinful moan he makes in response. Lance grins crookedly at him. 

“That’s more like it.”  
___

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls give me feedback,,, i am dying,,
> 
> or come talk to me on [tumblr](https://koganewest.tumblr.com/)   
> -lily


	6. You Like This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> warm milk and story telling and canon inconsistencies

When it comes down to it, Keith hates leading.

He doesn’t know how to be in charge, but he’s doing this for Shiro because no one else can. And still, every time he has to take action, he can’t make a decision. He doesn’t know what’s right or what’s unsuccessful, not like how Shiro did. He wasn’t born to lead. He hates it. Even when he does make a choice, it always seems to be the wrong one.

He feels the weight of his mistakes when they’re stuck in Thayserix. He never meant to back them into a corner, but there they were, tails between their legs, at Lotor’s will. Worst of all, they were separated.

He doesn’t quite know where to go. He can’t see much of anything, but he can feel the other lions. Their energy is scattered and confusing. He’s drawn specifically to one direction, so he follows his instincts and finds Lance. “What happened back there? Where's the rest of the team? This is all my fault.”

He’s no longer embarrassed to admit anything to Lance, but he is still humiliated with his mistakes. He’s a little bit surprised he ended up finding Lance first, but he tells himself that’s just due to the connection he had with Red. He can’t believe he did this to the team; he’s so ashamed of himself. “I followed him right into this trap. Everyone warned me, but I didn’t listen. I put the entire team in jeopardy.”

“Yeah, you kinda did.” Lance sighs, and Keith appreciates that he doesn’t deny it. “But now we gotta fix it.”

“You’re right,” he admits. Something about the resolution in Lance’s voice is reassuring. Even though he can’t see the expression on his face, he can imagine what he looks like. Hard set eyes, furrowed eyebrows, tight jaw. Determined. Strong-willed. Keith adores it about him. “Let’s go.”  
____

Later that night, Keith is sitting up in bed when he hears footsteps outside his door. They pause for a minute, then retreat. There’s only one person it could be.

Keith decides to check it out, exiting his room to make his way toward the Altean kitchen. And, just as he suspected, he finds Lance sat on the floor, knees to his chest, head buried in his arms. He debates leaving before Lance notices him there but figures he should probably check on him first. “You okay?”

Lance jumps. Frantic eyes meet Keith’s, who realizes he must’ve scared him. A tense moment passes between them. Lance’s shoulders sag as he settles back into his previous position, now with his head back against the cabinets. “Can’t sleep.”

“Oh,” Keith tries not to sound offended at the lack of information. Of course Lance can’t sleep – why else would he be here in the middle of their sleep cycle. He tries again. “Want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” he replies, shaking his head with a resigned exhaustion that Keith saw a lot from Shiro when they were younger. “Just need my own bed,” he jokes with a sad smile.

Keith really doesn’t know how to reply, so he doesn’t. Instead, he just opens the fridge, hoping someone had milked Kalteneker that day. Thankfully, there’s a bit of milk in a glass bottle on the top shelf. He glances around the room and finds something hopefully somewhat similar to a microwave.

“What are you doing?” The question comes from Lance behind him, who hasn’t bothered to look in his direction. Keith sticks the milk in the machine and turns it on. He waits maybe twenty ticks before he takes it out again.

 _Trying to give you a bit of happiness,_ Keith wants to say. _Trying to help you, like you help me._

“Here,” is what he says instead, handing the glass a bit forcefully to Lance. He takes it, looking a bit confused at first. When he raises an eyebrow at Keith, he explains himself. “You told me once that when you couldn’t sleep your abuelita would make you warm milk and tell you a story.”

The way that Lance looks at him in response, incredulous with a smile forming, makes him blush in embarrassment. “You remembered that?”

“Oh, shut up,” Keith remarks in mock anger, rolling his eyes. Lance pats the floor next to him as an invitation for him. He sits next to him but leaves enough space so they aren’t touching.

The milk glass is emptied during the moments they sit there in contemplative silence, side by side.

“You still owe me a story, though.”

“Are you kidding me?” Keith huffs, throwing his arms up in exaggerated frustration. “If anything, you owe me!”

There’s no response. Only a pout and wide eyes looking up at him. “Look,” he sighs, exasperated, “I don’t have any stories.” There’s a pause in which Keith regrets revealing that. He covers it up with a airy laugh. “Sorry to disappoint.”

“Everyone has stories,” Lance whines. He dramatically drops himself into Keith’s lap, head on his thigh, and looks up at him. “Just tell me your story,” he reasons. The request puts a weight in Keith’s chest. But with Lance lying on him like this, how could he deny it. Still, he gives one last-ditch attempt to avoid it.

“Would you even want to hear that?” He tries to play it off in a joking manner, but it ends up sounding more strained than he intended.

“Keith, don’t be ridiculous. I barely know anything about you.” There’s more to what he’s saying, Keith knows. He doesn’t question it any further though, deciding to just bite the bullet and tell Lance.

“Okay, fine, but where do I even start?”

“The beginning,” Lance answers gently. He grabs Keith’s hand and entwines their fingers together. Keith’s heart actually skips a beat as Lance rubs the pad of his thumb against his gloved knuckles soothingly. The gesture makes Keith sigh and shut his eyes. Lance must feel the tension in him because he instructs softly, “relax.”

“Okay,” he complies. “My mom, dad, and I lived at a litte ranch about 50 miles from El Paso. I don’t remember much of it, but I loved the sheep. I think I was scared of the cows, though.” Lance laughs a little bit, and Keith relishes in the sound of it. “We made our money selling wool, milk, and meat. It was pretty nice actually.

“Then one day, my mom left. No one really told me why. She didn’t say goodbye, either. One day I just came home from school and the place was empty.” He makes the mistake of looking down at Lance, who is gazing at him with wide, pitiful eyes. He hates pity so much. “Don’t,” he warns. Lance squeezes his hand, prompting for him to continue.

“So my dad sold the ranch. I think I was about six or seven at this point, I’m not sure. I don’t remember much of it. But I don’t think my dad could stand being there without her.” He sighs. “Sometimes I forget she didn’t just leave me, that she left him too.”

Guilt starts to eat away at Keith. He was so overbearing as a child; it’s really no wonder his dad left too. “Anyway, it was just me and my dad for a year or two. It wasn’t as depressing as it sounds – we had a lot of fun. He was the best, but my mom really broke him.

“Sometime before my eighth birthday, we had a fight. I left in the middle of the night to find my mom or something. It was stupid, so stupid, because she’d already been gone like a year or so. But I just missed her so much. Or at least the idea of her, you know. Everyone else had a mom in school. It wasn’t fair that I didn’t.

“But, long story short, I got lost for a few days, or weeks, I don’t really know. I was pretty much dying when Shiro found me.”

“Shiro?” Lance questions. When he looks down at him, Lance looks much sleepier than he did before. His eyes are drooping and there’s an indecipherable expression on his face. He’s listening intently, though, and Keith feels honored that he’s interested in his story. 

“Yeah, he kinda saved my life. I would’ve died in that desert if he hadn’t found me on his way to the Garrison.”

“So that’s how you know him?”

“Yeah,” Keith answers. As much as he hadn’t wanted to tell Lance about his past, it feels good. Lance fidgets in his lap a bit, then seems to get comfortable. His cheek is pressed into Keith’s thigh as he nods. Their hands are still tightly clasped together. “He helped me find the house me and my dad lived in, but when we got there, he was gone. Everything was gone.

“So Shiro brought me to a nearby police station, but no one could locate my parents. They must’ve both changed their names, fled the country.” He laughs bitterly, “I mean, if they didn’t want me that bad, they never should’ve had a kid.”

At this, Lance sits up and looks at him, gazes straight into his eyes. Keith doesn’t get choked up, because it isn’t the first time he’s thought about this, and it most certainly won’t be the last. The intensity in Lance’s eyes scares him a bit though. “Keith, I –”

“Don’t say anything, please. It’s honestly fine, I’m over it. This was ten years ago.”

“Okay, fine,” Lance relents. “I just –” He stops himself and places a hand on Keith’s cheek, who blushes immediately. Lance pulls him closer to kiss him, deep and determined. Keith is surprised by it, by relaxes into him and kisses back. It lacks their usual lust, the fire that they’ve grown accustomed to, but that passion is replaced by something else. Something that Keith can’t place. The kiss is relatively short and chaste, which is odd for Lance. The gesture is strange on it’s own; Lance has never tried to kiss him without an ulterior motive, without hoping it gets him in Keith’s pants.

When they pull apart, Lance looks a bit flushed. He quickly returns to his place in Keith’s lap, this time hiding his face. Keith thinks that maybe, just maybe, he felt it too.

“Keep going,” Lance urges quietly. There’s an uncertainty in his voice, but Keith tries to ignores it.

“Well, then I got put into the foster system for a few years. There were a few good families, but I was never with them for too long. I don’t think I spent more than four months at one place. The best ones never really had enough money to feed another mouth.

“When I was 12, I had enough with the foster system, so Shiro pulled some strings and I got to stay at an orphanage. That’s where I met some of the best kids. I took care of so many people, and it made me feel important.

“But it was really underfunded, so we often had to search the streets for food. I stole a lot more than I’m proud of, but it was necessary. We were all practically starving. It wasn’t fair, so I did just about anything to feed these kids, Lance, it was really bad, they were so young.

“One time, we broke into an apartment, just to get a loaf of bread. And we got caught. I got thrown out, but luckily the others were too young to get in trouble. After that incident, I got put back into the system.

“Then, when I was about 15 I got put with this really terrible family. They were the worst people I’ve ever met, and that says something. They did really horrible things to me,” he whispers. Thinking about them makes him shudder, remembering the many leftover scars on his body. Lance must notice the shift in his demeanor, because he gets a reassuring squeeze in the hand Lance is holding, while the other draws patterns on his knee.

“Anyway,” he clears his throat, hoping it isn’t obvious how choked up he’s getting. “I ran away from them. At first, Shiro was mad, but then he understood. He helped me live off the grid so CPS didn’t find me. It was a pretty good year. He would come and visit me when he got time off from the Garrison, while I spent the rest of my days gathering parts for the hoverbike I was designing.

“But then I ended up in the hospital. There was no avoiding CPS at that point, so I had to go back into foster care. It sucked, but by the time I was 17, Shiro got me into the Garrison.

“You pretty much know how that went, though. When Shiro disappeared, my world ended. I got kicked out, I lived on my own for a year, searched for Shiro, searched for Blue, until you guys found me. And, well… that’s pretty much it.”

He stops rambling to look down at Lance, who is facing him again. He looks like he’s fighting to stay awake, so Keith laughs a bit and combs his fingers through his brown hair, which is soft in his calloused fingers. The gesture seems to soothe Lance, who lets his eyes fall shut. “Thanks for the story, Keith.”

Keith internally groans, knowing he’ll be carrying Lance to bed again tonight. Still, he smiles softly. “Sorry it isn’t quite the happily-ever-after fairy tale you wanted.”

“Doesn’t matter, it’s still a good story.” There’s a drowsy grin on his face. “It’s the story of what brought you to me.”

“What?” is Keith’s immediately reply. His stomach flips uncomfortably, and he shifts under the weight of Lance on him.

“Nothing,” he says, still with a dopey smile. Sleep deprivation is the only explanation. He isn’t thinking straight. Keith refuses to let himself dwell on it. Lance makes grabby hands at him and pouts. “Carry me to bed?”

“Ugh, fine,” he replies, jokingly reluctant. He gets up from underneath Lance and stands. Once he cracks his back, he bends down to scoop up Lance, who latches onto him like a koala bear. His breath is hot on Keith’s neck. It makes him a bit dizzy.

When the two arrive at Lance’s room, Keith sets him down in bed gently. He turns then to leave, when Lance calls his name. He faces him again. “Why don’t you stay tonight?”

He must notice the way that Keith’s eyes widen comically, because he’s quick to offer an explanation. “You know, so we can, uh, have morning sex?”

At that, Keith huffs out a laugh of relief. Though he sounds unsure, it’s so like Lance to be thinking ahead for something like that. Of course Keith had misinterpreted the offer. So what if he thought Lance wanted to cuddle? Sue him. “Sounds good.”

So Lance scoots over, and Keith gets in bed beside him. It’s a bit awkward at first, because neither are sure if it’s okay for them to touch. There’s a silent few moments in which an inch or two separates them. As usual, Lance breaks the silence, turning to lay on his side facing Keith. “Thanks for what you did tonight.”

“No big deal,” Keith mumbles under his breath, focusing his eyes on the ceiling. He doesn’t think he can look Lance in the eyes.

“It _is_ a big deal. I appreciate it,” he says genuinely. Abruptly, he leans close to Keith and kisses his cheek. He doesn’t move away afterward, just nuzzles into his neck and stays there. Keith feels his face heating up.

They lay like that for a while. Keith doesn’t dare move. Eventually, he feels Lance’s breath on his neck evens out. Still, Keith remains unmoving.

It takes him forever to fall asleep. But when their alarm goes off, it’s all worth it.

He wakes up to the smell of Lance, the rumble of his voice from above his head. Keith is halfway draped across his chest, an arm strewn across his middle. His face is pressed into Lance’s neck and his leg hooked over his waist. Underneath him, Lance is all relaxed muscles and warmth.

“Hey,” he hears from the soft but gravelly voice above him, spoken into his hair. It sparks an unusual feeling in the depth of his gut, because, for some reason, the single word is so affectionate and so gentle that it hurts.

“Morning,” he replies, equally as subdued. He doesn’t think he’s ever been so comfortable in his life, and he really hopes Lance doesn’t make a move to get up. They can afford being a few minutes late for breakfast.

But then he remembers the reason Lance asked him to stay the night. It makes him a bit upset to think about, but he doesn’t dwell on it for long. He can’t really think about it for long, because Lance moves a bit underneath him.

And just when he thinks Lance is about to get up, the opposite happens. He brings on arm to wrap around Keith's waist and pulls him closer. The other hand finds his hair and starts twirling it.

“You’re comfy,” he mumbles through a yawn, and Keith is more than thankful Lance can’t see his face, because the smile on his lips is painfully embarrassing. He tries to remind himself that he shouldn’t feel like this. It’s just sex, after all. But something about the way Lance is holding him, with such an acute tenderness, makes it hard for Keith to be convinced there aren’t any strings attached. Still, he tries not to get his hopes up.

Neither make a move to get up until it’s absolutely necessary. It makes Keith’s entire week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> keith finally opens up to lance!! i think this is my favorite chapter, especially because i love writing tired and affectionate lance. i have up to chapter 8 prewritten still! and i would love an artist for this fic, if any of y’all want :))
> 
> [talk to me on tumblr!](https://koganewest.tumblr.com/)  
> -lily


	7. Desire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> heart-to-hearts :))

When Shiro returns, Keith can finally breathe a sigh of relief. But it doesn’t really last. 

He’d automatically expected to go right back to how everything was, but it didn’t. Shiro wouldn’t let him step down, since Black only responded to him. He hated it, hated the responsibility, but he knew no one else could do it now. He didn’t understand why Black wouldn’t bond with Shiro, but he had to accept it. Shiro had made that _very_ clear. 

Speaking of, Shiro was acting differently with him. He frequently snapped at Keith – no longer had patience for him. It was a weird experience, having someone important to him begin to disregard his opinions out of nowhere. He thought Shiro coming back would be a great thing, but something had shifted in their dynamic.

He finds himself in the training room again, late at night, taking out his frustration on a gladiator bot. Fighting with his blade helps him clear his head. His anger, while it takes away from his agility, fuels his power. His relentlessness helps him take it down with ease. 

By the time he gets to Level 7 though, he’s falling behind. He knows that he’s abandoning his skillset just so he can swing angrily at the bot, but he doesn’t really care. He keeps fighting. 

It isn’t until he takes a particularly hard hit on his right shoulder that he hears someone from behind him shout, “end training sequence!”

He falls, clutching his arm that still is weak from the Marmora Trials, while he notices Lance in the doorway. His arms are crossed over his chest, posture relaxed, smirk on his face, when he calls out to Keith, no harm, all teasing. “You’re off your game, mullet!”

“Leave me alone,” he grumbles insincerely – there’s no real malice behind it. He knows Lance understands it, because suddenly he’s being offered a strong hand that pulls him back to his feet. He decides to return the banter with a challenge. “You still could never take me.”

“Oh, really? Wanna bet?” There’s a devilish smirk on Lance’s face that sets a fire in Keith’s gut. He’s leant back, relaxed, taunting, but still poised to fight. The balance between extremes is quite impressive, but the feeling isn’t unfamiliar. Keith is used to Lance repeatedly exceeding his expectations. 

As an invitation, an acceptance of Lance’s challenge, Keith drops his sword, readies his fists, and grins in return. “Game on!” And that’s how the two end up sparring in the middle of the training deck.

It’s fast and intense, giving Keith just the distraction he needed. Lance’s strength has never been hand-to-hand combat, but he does well against Keith, who has been fighting like this his whole life. It only takes a minute or two for Keith to pin him to the ground. He has Lance’s wrists trapped above his head, and he’s straddling his lap. He raises an eyebrow at the boy beneath him and smiles wryly. “I think I won that bet.”

The heavy rise and fall of Lance’s chest beneath him is comforting, reminding him that they’re just so close, so entwined. There’s an indecipherable glint in Lance’s eyes as he looks up at Keith through short lashes. The look itself is enough to make Keith’s chest constrict with a sensation he can’t identify. But, instead of dwelling on it, he leans down to kiss Lance. 

The other boy responds with no hesitation, falling into rhythm. The way they are together, the way they move in sync, the way they are finely attuned to each other; all of it sends Keith reeling. He really cares about Lance, really enjoys the time they spend together. For a fleeting moment, he wonders what life would have been like if they’d started this casual affair earlier, but the thought is soon replaced by adrenaline-fueled lust.

All thought disappears, though, when Lance rolls his hips up against Keith, who moans desperately in return. There’s a lot of tongue involved, and it gets sloppier by the minute. Lance’s hands, rested at his waist, begin to slide under his shirt to grip at the pale skin there. The calloused fingers bring warmth, hold him there steadily. He feels safe. He feels grounded. 

“Keith, we can’t – oh _fuck_ –” Lance had tried to pry Keith off him to say something, but Keith just attached his mouth to his neck, and now he’s gasping, breathless beneath him. There’s a deep blush on his cheeks, his eyes are half lidded, and his lips are swollen and parted. Nothing compares to the way he looks right now to Keith. It’s his favorite thing to see. He relents marking Lance’s neck briefly so he can talk, but it’s in no way a resignation. “We really can’t do this here.”

“Really?” Keith grins at him smugly, before he grinds his hips down against Lance, who tosses his head back and groans pitifully. “I don’t see anyone stopping us.”

That’s all the convincing Lance seems to need, because he’s pulling Keith down with eager hands and pleading lips. Keith happily obliges, but only for a minute before he moves down to unzip Lance’s jeans. He watches his face while he cups his dick, hard and apparent through his boxers. His expression is wanton, pure bliss. Mumbling to himself, Keith makes an easy decision. “I wanna suck you off.”

Lance doesn’t even attempt to formulate words, instead opting to thread his fingers into Keith’s already messy hair and gently push his head down to where he wants him. Keith glaces up at him, eyebrow raised to urge him on. There’s nothing he loves more than when Lance is controlling, and Lance knows it. The next push is more forceful, and Keith happily obeys. He maneuvers Lance’s boxers down and frees his cock. 

He spends a bit of time teasing Lance, pressing open-mouthed kisses up his thighs, before they both get impatient. There’s a particularly hard tug on his hair, so Keith finally wraps his lips around Lance’s dick and bobs his head. 

Now, Keith can deepthroat dick like a champ, but sometimes Lance likes to push his limits. It takes a perfectly timed thrust up of Lance’s hips, along with Lance pushing his head down, to get Keith’s eyes to water. He chokes a bit and pulls back a bit, but not all the way off. He blinks rapidly a few times before glancing up at Lance. 

He’s got his eyes screwed shut and his bottom lip caught between his teeth. When he notices Keith has stilled, his eyes open and find Keith’s. When their gazes meet, Keith takes all of him again, so far down that his nose is pressed against Lance’s abdomen. Neither break the shared look until Lance practically moans his name in praise. “So pretty, Keith,” he whines, pulling at his hair as Keith begins to bob his head again. “You look so damn good like this – so pretty.”

The compliment would’ve made Keith smile, if it hadn’t been for the mouthful of dick. It doesn’t stop his face from reddening further, though. He distracts himself by moaning around Lance, closing his eyes, and picking up his pace again. 

“Holy shit, Keith.” It doesn’t take long before Keith brings him to the brink of orgasm, and when he finally comes, Keith swallows it all down. The intensity of it leaves Lance gasping, tripping over his words. “You’re too good at that, I mean, wow. Do you want, like, can I return the favor or something? Even though I doubt I could ever be that good. Not that I’m bad at blowjobs, but like –”

“Lance,” he interrupts his rambling with a laugh. “It’s fine, I’m good.” He helps Lance pull up his boxers and zip his jeans before he moves up to lay beside him, side by side on the floor of the training room. Keith’s eyes are fixed on the ceiling, unmoving even when he feels Lance turn his head to look at him. 

“What’s bothering you?”

“What?” The question startles Keith a bit, so he turns to meet Lance’s gaze. His blue eyes seemingly pierce into Keith, leaving him gaping and empty and defenseless. It’s a feeling he’s quite familiar with. “What do you mean?”

“You’re upset,” Lance states, as if it’s obvious. “And don’t even deny it, ‘cause I _know_ ,” he says with such a powerful conviction that confuses Keith. The look on his face must convey this, because Lance starts to explain himself. “You always want to blow me when you have something on your mind.”

“It’s a good distraction,” Keith shrugs. There’s no point in denying it; nothing he could say would convince Lance that he isn’t frustrated with something. Instead, he opts for a diversion. “Can I ask you something kinda personal?”

“I guess.” It seems to catch Lance’s attention enough to diverge him from Keith’s issue. However, his condition makes Keith’s palms sweat with anxiety. “If I can ask you something in return.”

“Fine,” he agrees. It’s a fair deal. “Why did you hate me at the Garrison?” 

The question seems to surprise Lance. In truth, it had always bothered Keith that he had a self-proclaimed rival without even knowing. It wasn’t fair that he hadn’t done anything to Lance – as far as he knew – and he still hated Keith. He was dying for an explantion, and he knows its obvious that he’s eager. However, Lance doesn’t appear to be too keen on providing one. He shifts, looking away from Keith. 

“I didn’t hate _you_.” Both boys sigh for different reasons – Keith with relief, Lance with resignation. “I just hated the _idea_ of you, I guess. You were this effortless prodigy, you know? You just showed up and overshadowed everyone without even trying.” Now, Lance looks him in the eye. “When you flunked out, I took your spot. I was _constantly_ being compared to you.”

“I’m really sorry, I didn’t know –”

“No, don’t apologize, it wasn’t your fault. It just sucked so much, because I really worked to be there, while you never had to. I still kept disappointing people. I guess I blamed you for my own shortcomings.”

“You don’t have any shortcomings, Lance,” he says sincerely. It’s then that Keith realizes he isn’t the only one that’s a little broken; Lance is broken, too. He reaches over to place his hand on Lance’s cheek, running his fingers along his jawline tenderly. “You don’t disappoint anyone, not at all. Okay?” The reassurance causes Lance to move closer to him, nuzzling his nose into Keith’s neck. “You impress all of us, more and more each day. We’re all so proud of you, Lance. Your family is proud of you. I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks, Keith.” His voice is so soft and genuine that Keith thinks he may be imagining the whole conversation. Keith just reaches his arm across to hold Lance lazily. They lay like that for a while, pressed together, Keith running his fingers along tanned skin, until Lance finally breaks the silence. “I never asked my question!”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

“Where did you go after we had that fight? You were gone for so many days.”

“Oh.” It hits Keith like a ton of bricks. The memory is far from a pleasant one, and the very last thing he wants to do is talk about it. He owes Lance though, especially after his confession about their garrison days. “Well, I took a pod and just explored for a while. A long time, actually. Maybe three or four days? But then I started to get hungry, because the pod only had water. So I actually went to the space mall to look for some Earth food.

“Since I didn’t have any money, I just ate as much as I could, grabbed the closet bottle of liquor, and escaped. I headed back to the castle, but I started to get embarassed about how I’d just took off without an explanation, so that’s when I started drinking. And, well, you know what happened after that,” Keith pauses. “We really need to stay away from that mall,” he laughs bitterly, a desperate attempt to lift the tension that’s settled between them. 

“Oh,” is all Lance replies initially. Then, “I’m sorry again for what I said. I wasn’t thinking, I just –”

“It’s fine. It’s the past,” Keith reconciles, to which Lance hums in response. There’s another stretch of silence that follows, but this one isn’t tense or heavy. It’s filled with a mutual understanding, which Keith would never dare call intimate. 

He falls asleep like that, Keith guesses, because the next morning he wakes up in his own bed. Lance must’ve carried him there. There’s a small note pinned on his wall, just two words long. 

_Thank you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'd really love to hear what you guys think! talk to me on [tumblr!](https://koganewest.tumblr.com/)  
> -lily


	8. Waiting For Your Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i apologize in advance. a lot of shit goes down this chap.

“Keith, can you help me with something?” Hunk calls from the kitchen while the team is sat in the lounge. He’s confused why Hunk is asking him for help, especially because he could’ve asked anyone in the castle, but he doesn’t question it. Maybe it was because they’d gotten closer while in the Weblum. After all, Hunk was the first to openly talk about him being Galra. He never was hateful toward Keith, instead lightening the tension with jokes and banter to reassure Keith. 

“Sure,” he calls back, standing to leave. Everyone seems to be just as confused as him. Pidge raises an eyebrow in his direction, but Keith just shrugs and heads to the kitchen. When he walks in, Hunk is faced away from him, eyes on the bowl in front of him, so Keith gets his attention. “What’s up?”

“I wanted to talk to you about something,” Hunk says, turning toward him. If he’d been attempting to sound casual, it’s fruitless. His tone is serious, and it makes Keith swallow anxiously. Hunk clarifies, meeting his eyes, “Lance. And whatever is going on between the two of you.”

“Oh,” Keith blushes nervously. “There’s nothing going on –”

“Save it,” Hunk says, almost dangerously. He seems to regroup though, and adds with a laugh, “Pidge already told me.” He pauses. “I just want you to know that he’s happy. He was struggling a lot with being away from his family, but I think you’re helping.”

“Really?” Keith questions incredulously. He doesn’t even bother pretending that he isn’t flattered because it’s not worth it. He’s helping Lance? He honestly doesn’t think his heart can take it. 

“Yeah, believe it or not, I think you’re a good distraction for him.” Hunk laughs gently. There’s that wretched word again: distraction. He doesn’t just want to be a distraction, but he doesn’t have time to think about that because Hunk goes serious again. “I just need you to know something. If you hurt him, you’ll regret it. Understand?”

Keith nods frantically. He’s not used to seeing the protective side of Hunk, but he probably should’ve expected it, given how caring he is. He’s being sincere when he agrees; Lance is important to him. He wouldn’t ever want to jeopardize their friendship (could he even call it that?) over something trivial. Keith had come to depend on Lance, whether he liked it or not. 

“Good,” Hunk affirms. Then he seems to relax, offering a gentle smile. “Now, can you help me with this glaze? I need someone to add ingredients while I stir.”  
____ 

Everything goes wrong on their next mission. 

It was supposed to be simple, just intercepting some supply ships for intel, but they end up being much more guarded than expected. Shiro suspected they were transporting something more valuable than what they’d previously assumed. 

But the fact of the matter was that they were extremely outnumbered. They don’t have enough time to form Voltron, so they’re fighting from their individual lions. It’s pretty disasterous though, because Allura is still hesitant in Blue, Lance isn’t used to Red, and Keith hates leading. He hates it so much. Their team is falling apart. 

Pidge takes a detrimental hit in Green while protecting the castle, and the right side of her lion is nonresponsive. But Keith isn’t ready to retreat, fearful of the consequences. Shiro is yelling in his coms from the castle, trying to help them avoid too much damage, but it isn’t helping enough. They’re getting beat so bad. 

Keith is trying to fend off the fighters encircling Hunk when they hear Lance scream in their coms. All attention turns to where they last saw him. He’s thrown off to the side, no control of Red. His left side is all scratched and dented, unresponsive. They all scream his name, but he doesn’t reply. There’s no reply. 

“Retreat!” Keith commands, panicking. “I’ve got Red, just everyone get back to the castle, _now!_ ” 

He can hear everyone questioning him, but he doesn’t care. No one else can get hurt if they retreat. Their objections don’t matter. All that matters right now is Lance. He flies to where he spots Red, farther than she’d been before. Black isn’t as fast as he’s used to, so it takes longer. But when he gets there, his stomach drops to the ground. “Lance? Can you hear me? Please respond if you’re alive.”

His tone is desperate and pleading as he shuts off communication with everyone but Lance. He gets radio silence for a few ticks, and then, a weak groan of pain. 

“Thank god,” Keith whispers, mostly to himself. He truly doesn’t think he’s ever felt more relief in his life. “I’m coming to get you, hang on, buddy.”

Connecting himself to an oxygen line, he ejects himself from Black and jetpacks through open space to Lance’s cockpit. He easily gets in through the shattered glass and scans the room for Lance. When he spots him, the relief is gone again and replaced by worry. He’s by his side in a second, examining the damage. 

He really doesn’t look good. His armor is dented in places and completely shattered in others. He needs to get back to the castle, immediately. His eyes are barely open, the right one swelling with a forming bruise. His lips part, just barely, to let out a broken whisper, “Keith.”

“You’re safe, Lance,” he assures him, “I’ve got you, you’re safe.” Then, Keith notices a crack in his helmet. If it gets any worse, Lance might not have any oxygen. The Galra are still shooting at them.

Keith may not be good at decisions, but he makes this one without any hesitation. He removes his own helmet, complete with the oxygen tank, and replaces Lance’s with it. Now, he has to act fast. 

He scoops up Lance in his arms, holding his breath, and carries him out of Red’s cockpit. It’s more than difficult to get him through empty space again and back to Black, especially because she’s defending them from more damage by the fighter ships, and he can’t breathe. But when she lets them back in, Keith stumbles in and places Lance down as carefully as he can. 

He gulps in a few desperate breaths of oxygen before remembering Lance’s condition. He kneels beside him after begging Black to get them back to the castle on her own. Lance’s eyes are fully closed now, but Keith can tell he isn’t bleeding anywhere, thankfully. If he has a concussion, Keith has got to keep him awake. “Lance, c’mon, open your eyes for me.” 

Only his left eye opens, the other being swollen shut, so Keith puts a soothing hand on his cheek. Amidst all the chaos, he feels Black land in the hangar, so he tries to be as gentle as possible when he picks Lance up again, who groans in response. Keith feels guilt twisting his gut. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” 

“Keith,” he says weakly, and Keith almost swears Lance is smiling at him. Just barely. But it’s gone as soon as the enter the castle again, and they’re being swarmed by the other paladins. Keith barely even thinks as he gives Coran a summary of Lance’s issues, before he’s being whisked away to the infirmary. 

“You can come,” Allura tells him, and he dashes after her with heightening anxiety. If Lance is fatally injured, it’s his fault. It’s all his fault. He should’ve retreated sooner. He should have never went on the mission in the first place. “He doesn’t seem to be seriously injured,” she explains, and Keith breathes a sigh of relief. “I think he just needs rest and some TLC.”

“Are you sure it’s safe for him to sleep?” Keith interjects, concern obvious in his voice, but Coran is quick to dismiss his worries. 

“That’s actually a myth! Sleep is essential for head injuries, so the body can recover.”

The explanation makes enough sense to Keith, who has a very limited knowledge of biology, so he just nods and finally turns to look at Lance. He honestly doesn’t look nearly as bad as he did when in Red. Luckily, the swelling has gone down in his face, thanks to the cold pack, and there still is no blood anywhere. His eyes are closed lightly, making it obvious he’s still awake. 

_“Mamá?”_ His voice is weak and gravelly from the cot he’s laid on. He doesn’t open his eyes, doesn’t even move, which is alarming to Keith. Although, Coran had told him the painkillers would make Lance confused. _“Mamá, te extrañé tanto, ¿dónde estabas?”_

“No, Lance, it’s me. It’s Keith,” he soothes sympathetically. He doesn’t know any Spanish, but the pain in Lance’s voice makes him feel so guilty. He wishes he could bring Lance home, back to his parents, back to his home. It was Keith’s fault he was in the mess. “Are you okay? What hurts?”

 _“Me duele todo el cuerpo, Mamá.”_ The expression Lance wears is one of pain; his eyebrows knit, his jaw clenched, his eyes closed. Keith tries to placate him, running his gloved hand through his soft brown hair, but it doesn’t help, because Lance just squirms more. _“Por favor, hazlo parar. Quiero morirme, quiero morirme,”_ he repeats. 

Keith wishes he could understand or communicate in Spanish. 

Instead, he just reaches for Lance’s hand, lacing their fingers together and gripping tight. “You’re okay, you’re okay,” he soothes, and Lance grips his hand in response. Keith rubs the pad of his thumb over his hand, and eventually Lance stills. The muscles in his shoulders relax, as does his expression, and Keith guesses he finally falls asleep. 

Keith stays there all night.  
____ 

A few hours later, he wakes up in the chair to Lance stirring beside him. Keith wastes no time in shaking his shoulder, waking him immediately. Lance’s eyes open, wide and terrified, but he seems to calm immediately when he sees Keith’s face, who tries not to blush. 

“Are you okay?” Keith questions gently, giving the boy some space to breathe. He’s still in the rickety bedside chair, which is absolutely killing his back. Lance just blinks up at him blankly, before he seems to remember what happened, why he was in the infirmary, why Keith was with him.

“Was my mom here last night?” 

“I think you were hallucinating,” he explains, trying to let him down as softly as possible; it’s the least he could do. And then, the worst possible thing happens: Lance begins to cry. 

Keith watches for a moment, eyes wide in horror, as Lance’s expression contorts, his cheeks redden, and he just starts sobbing. It’s not a gradual progression; it’s rapid and hits him hard. Keith thinks his heart shatters into a million pieces as Lance just heaves and sputters. There’s nothing delicate about the big, ugly sobs that wrack his slim frame.

And then Keith finally gets a hold of himself and reacts. He maneuvers himself onto the bed in such a way that he isn’t sitting on Lance’s injured legs, and leans to where Lance is sitting up, back against the wall. For a second he sits there, arms open as an invitation, and then Lance allows himself to be held. He allows Keith to gather him up in his arms and provide a safe place, a secure place, for Lance to just cry into his shoulder. 

They eventually lay back on the bed, long after Lance has calmed down. 

“I just miss them so much.” The sentence is said in a whisper against Keith’s collarbone, an almost forbidden declaration, and Keith can’t figure out why. “Every time I close my eyes, I see them. Every time I have time, I’m thinking about them. I can’t escape this guilt, I just –”

“Hey, hey,” Keith interrupts softly, running a hand through Lance’s hair. His other hand is around his waist, securing Lance in place on his chest. “It isn’t your fault, none of this is your fault.” _It’s mine,_ Keith thinks, but internalizes for Lance’s sake. This isn’t about him. 

Neither say another word after that. The only sound in the room is content breathing. The only movement is the circles Keith traces into Lance’s bruised skin. They fall asleep like that.  
____ 

Lance fully recovers easily, and they return to fighting Zarkon, despite the noticeable timidness from Keith as leader. He’s in the lounge with Pidge after a particularly long day when Lance and Allura walk in, talking about something Keith can’t decipher from the couch he’s on. Pidge is half asleep against his shoulder, and he’s ridiculously thankful for the comfort. He’s been on edge all day, and she could tell. Pidge was a good friend for that; she always knew when something was wrong and didn’t interrogate him like Shiro usually does. 

In truth, he can’t stop thinking about the previous night. He can’t stop longing to be in Lance’s arms again. And it truly isn’t fair, because Lance occupies his every thought now, but Lance seems to disregard it like it’s nothing. But that night meant everything to Keith. 

Now, Lance and Allura sit on the couch opposite him. They’re sitting very close, and Keith can’t help but notice Lance is being dangerously flirty. Keith’s shoulders tense, causing Pidge to wake up a bit. She looks up at him, eyebrow raised questioningly. He just closes his eyes and lets out a deep breath, shaking his head dismissively. He ignores the sympathetic look he gets in return. She must know he’s jealous; he isn’t exactly subtle. 

There’s a fire igniting in his chest, leaping in his mind and licking at his throat. Everything burns. The heat envelops him, forces its way out of his mouth and into the air. It forms a column between him and Lance, separates them.

The flames mock him, spit in his face that he never meant anything to Lance. He’ll never be Allura, with her gorgeous long hair, dainty posture, smooth body. Instead, he is a strong jaw, he is sharp hip bones, he is thick eyebrows, he is broad shoulders. He is male. But that isn’t the reason he will never compare to her. 

Lance will never have feelings for him because of who he is. He’s too fucked up, too far from perfect to ever be good enough for Lance. Because Lance deserves someone just as good as him. He deserves the world, and Keith can’t give him that.

But he’s always known this. So he really doesn’t know why he’s bothered about it now. 

It’s when Lance leans over and whispers something in Allura’s ear that Keith just loses it. Lance has got this stupid smile on his face, Allura is blushing, and Keith is fucking _done_. 

The fire consumes him, and there’s nothing left of him. He stands abruptly and storms out. 

Pidge is following him, but he doesn’t care, he just doesn’t fucking care, because it hurts. He can’t keep watching Lance do that in front of him, he just can’t. Before he even registers what he’s doing, he’s sprinting toward the pod bay. Behind him, Pidge is yelling at him, shouting for him to stop, but he doesn’t even hear it. 

The alarms go off as he raises the hangar, but he doesn’t even care because he flies away before any of them can stop him. He knows he’s overreacting, knows he isn’t in the right state of mind to fly right now, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters, cause all he is right now is a gaping hole. He has nothing left.  
____ 

He doesn’t fly for long before he finds a planet and, when he lands, he realizes it’s a lot like Earth. The inhabitants resemble humans, like Alteans do, except for their towering height and the coloring of their skin being any shade from fluorescent yellow to deep blue. 

The second he finds what looks like a bar, he stumbles in and orders a drink, only to be immediately hit on by one of the aliens. Keith figures the figure is about a foot or two taller than him, with a pale blue tint to his skin and shoulder length hair. He sits next to Keith, offering his name, which Keith immediately forgets.

They don’t sit and talk for two long, since Keith is somewhat in a daze. He probably seems more intoxicated than he really is, because he doesn’t even protest when he’s being dragged toward the bathrooms. 

What happens next isn’t anything like what he’s used to. The lock on the stall clicks, and Keith convinces himself that this is what he needs. The nameless figure doesn’t even try to make Keith feel good before he’s shoved to his knees. He’s selfish and apathetic and everything Lance is not. But this is what Keith needs. 

He needs to forget. He needs to forget about Lance, forget about his touch, forget about what he feels for him. He’s just so tired of giving everything he has, only for it to be taken away. He’s tired of loving and getting nothing in return. He’s tired of being a shell of a person, a shadow of himself. 

When its finally over, he throws up. He isn’t sure if he should blame the foreign alcohol, the soreness in his throat, or how dirty he feels.  
____ 

When he finds the castle again, docks the pod, and walks back into the loading zone, Shiro is waititng there for him, arms crossed, angry. He drops his head in humiliation, knowing he’s disappointed Shiro, who starts shouting at him immediately. “What were you thinking, Keith?! You can’t just leave like that! What if we were attacked! We wouldn’t be able to defend ourselves without the Black Lion, without Voltron! You have to stop being so selfish!”

He can’t even manage a reply, only a whisper of Shiro’s name, small and broken. He hates how he sounds, hates the pathetic emptiness in his voice, but his tone doesn’t soften like it normally does when he gets like this. Instead, the lecture continues. “Your blade missions are bad enough! You have to be a leader, Keith, but you’re acting like a child! You’re lucky we need you in Black, otherwise you might not be welcome back here.” 

It hits him like a ton of bricks. 

They don’t want him around.

They just keep him to pilot Black. 

This whole time, Keith had been so naïve. He thought he’d found an ally in Pidge, a support system in Hunk, a best friend in Shiro. 

And Lance, god, and _Lance_. He didn’t know how to function without Lance. How to relax without his face masks. How to laugh without his stories. How to breathe without his touch. How to sleep without a memory of him. It suffocates Keith, crawling down his throat and into his chest. It wraps itself around Keith’s heart and squeezes, unrelenting, until he can no longer move. 

He stands there for a minute or two, staring at the ground, wilting under Shiro’s fiery gaze. Eventually, Shiro leaves him there, and he escapes to his room, praying that he doesn’t run into anyone. But he clearly has the worst luck in the universe, because he walks straight into Lance. “Keith! Where were you? You left out of nowhere and –” 

The urge to forget Lance was easily overpowered by the desire to drown in him. 

Lance is interrupted by Keith quite literally attacking him with a forceful kiss. Lance flounders for a moment before gaining his balance and wrapping Keith up in his arms. Their movements are counterbalanced – Keith’s desperate and frantic movements are quelled by Lance’s gentle and languid ones. Lance is trying to calm him, stall his movements, but it isn’t working, so he pulls away, gasping. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” he manages through heaving breaths, dragging Lance into his own bedroom and pushing him onto the bed. Lance’s concerned gaze only deepens, indicating that Keith isn’t going to get away with that vague of a response. 

“Keith.” His tone is a warning. 

“Please,” Keith begs, leaving unsaid that he wants Lance to just drop it. His voice cracks pathetically as he pleads, eyes wide and fearful of denial. Desperate hands clutch tightly, and his knuckles whiten around the shirt in his hands. “I need this, Lance.” 

For a fleeting moment, Lance reaches up from where he’s laid on the bed to cup his face, with so much gentle sincerity that Keith has to look away to keep from blushing. But it’s gone almost immediately, replaced by accommodating lips. Keith keens into it, situating himself between Lance’s legs and responding with a desperate mouth.

But then Lance pauses, stares numbly at his neck where Keith knows he has red marks from the other alien. Marks that Lance didn’t make. 

But Lance doesn’t say anything about it, just chooses to mark the other side of his neck, darker and more forceful than what is already there. He then clutches at Keith’s hips, and they grind together like teenagers for a minute, panting into each other’s mouth until Keith reaches for Lance’s zipper. 

And from then, clothes are shed quickly until bare chests are pressed together. Lance is three fingers deep in him when Keith asks through labored breaths, “how do you want me?”

Lance doesn’t answer, just wraps an arm around his waist and flips them so he’s on top of Keith. He pries his legs apart gently and settles between them as Keith huffs impatiently. Lance knows he’s a sucker for missionary, relishes in the intimacy of it, loves watching Lance’s face while he fucks him. It’s his weakness, and he figures Lance is doing this to appease him. 

“Goddamn, Keith,” he sighs as he pushes in, “you’re so hot like this.” Thankfully, Keith knows his face is already red with arousal, so Lance won’t notice the way he blushes. He doesn’t exactly have time to dwell on the compliment though, because Lance moves, pulling out and slamming back in abruptly. Keith lets out a strangled moan in time with the thrust, squeezing his eyes shut as his toes curl. 

A steady rhythm builds between them, a constant back and forth movement, Lance just barely brushing his prostate each time. The frustrated glares he sends Lance don’t seem to clue him in, but he’s getting impatient. Just before Keith is about to beg him to stop messing around and fuck him good, Lance grabs his hips forcefully to press him further into the mattress, angles his own hips upward, and picks up his pace. 

Keith literally loses the ability to speak as Lance pounds into him, just right. The noise in the room is reduced to the bed creaking with their movements, skin on skin, and labored breathing. It’s exactly what Keith needed: mindless sex. And as usual Lance breaks their silence, a whisper of his name, then a command. “Come with me.”

And Keith does so without protest, untouched, spilling onto his stomach, as Lance continues to thrust into him through his own orgasm. Before stops though, Lance grabs his hand and places it on Keith’s stomach, so they _feel_ the swell of Lance inside him. “See that?” He demands, watching as Keith nods frantically. “You’re _mine._ ”

“Mhm, yours,” Keith repeats numbly, at a loss for words once again. The concept of Lance actually claiming him makes him so dizzy with foolish hope that he has to look away. He tells himself the possessiveness is practically innate in humans, that it doesn’t mean anything. 

After all, it’s _just sex._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so. i loved writing this so much. dear god.  
> but i am now finished with the portion of the fic that was previously written!  
> -lily


	9. The Pain Inflicted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> shit goes down pt2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i apologize in advance. i wrote the first 2k at an ungodly hour in the morning. i lost my beta like 4 chapters ago. 
> 
> thank you for bearing with me through this. i have been awake like 40 straight hours. big yike

Things are much different working for the Blade. 

Keith can physically _feel_ the disconnect between him and the other members, tangible and cutting. They don’t care about him, about themselves, and it’s such a culture shock that he feels like he’s dropped of the face of the Earth. If he was actually on Earth. 

He hates to admit that he prefers Voltron. But he does. So, so much that it actually hurts. And Kolivan is constantly shoving it in his face, comparing these missions to Voltron’s. 

It’s no different when he saves Regress and the intel, almost killing himself in the process. But he tells himself that this is what’s best for him – or more importantly, what’s best for his team. They don’t need him anymore; he’d just be dead weight to them, and that’s the last thing he wants. To be a liability.

So he continues working with them, training with them, getting ready to step down from leading. He waits, impatiently, for Black to let Shiro pilot her again so he can do what’s right and let .

The worst part: Shiro isn’t the same. 

There’s no point in denying it anymore: he’s different. All the steady patience he used to have for Keith is gone, replaced by bitter tension. He snaps at nearly anything Keith proposes and, in all honesty, it hurts. 

And Keith’s absense from each mission proves to be no exception. He really isn’t in the mood to be yelled at, after being reprimanded by Kolivan, but Shiro doesn’t seem to have any sympathy. He dismisses everything Keith has to say about the new quintessence and sends him to escort the refugees in the Fimms System. The team is no more accepting than Shiro’d been. They’re frustrated and fed up with him – even Hunk, which is saying something. He feels burning shame as he finishes the mission with them.  
___

“Oh, fuck, _Keith_ ,” Lance pants hotly into the hair on Keith’s neck, as said boy rises and falls on Lance’s cock with desperate fervor. The whisper almost disrupts the air, breaking the sounds of skin on skin and heavy breathing. Keith throws his head back and moans at the praise, quickly reaching down to touch himself. 

They’re in Lance’s room, sat on the bed in the far corner, Keith in Lance’s lap. It’s by far one of Keith’s favorite positions, due to the way Lance holds him there, strong and steady, as Keith rides him. Judging by how quickly Lance falls apart, it’s a favorite of his too. But regardless, Keith’s legs are starting to shake with overexertion and he isn’t sure how much longer he can last, especially with Lance’s hot breathing on his neck. 

But Lance shifts his hips, changing the angle ever so slightly, and there’s nothing else Keith can do but let out a high-pitched whine of pleasure. And then, Lance meets his gaze. 

The look on Lance’s face is one of absolute bliss, which is more than surprising when he hasn’t come yet. His eyelids are half open, his cheeks are flushed, his eyebrows are lax on his face. He’s still breathing fast, but everything else about him exudes contentment. It’s absolutely beautiful on him. And worst of all, after a second of intense eye contact, he blinks slowly, and a lazy smile appears on his lips, just for Keith, just for the two of them. 

Keith’s brain malfunctions for a second before he forces himself look away from the blinding sight, just continue to ride him until they both reach their high. 

Afterward, the second he has the energy, he escapes Lance’s grip and begins putting his clothes back on as quickly as possible. He figures Lance will be asleep soon anyway, that it won’t matter that he’s leaving so soon, that Lance won’t care. He really isn’t meant to stay anyway.

“Keith?” He was wrong. “Where are you going?” The question sounds almost pathetic, so Lance covers it with a laugh and restates himself. “You got a date or something? Someone hotter than me?” It’s a defense mechanism, the joke. Keith knows it, then curses himself for knowing it. He isn’t sure what to say, but he certainly isn’t going to explain the truth. He pauses what he’s doing with his shirt halfway over his head. 

“Yes,” he says quickly, and Lance’s face falls. “I mean, no, not really.” He stutters, trying to think on his feet. “I’ve got a Blades mission,” he covers, smug with himself for the excuse. He’s honestly surprised he didn’t end up saying something ridiculous. This, at least, is a plausible lie. 

“Right,” Lance replies, and Keith sees the hurt even before he masks it with another joke. “Course you don’t have a date hotter than me, that’d be impossible.”

And with that, Lance rolls over and tucks himself under the covers, still a sticky mess. Keith never understood how he could sleep like that, with the remnants of their actions among him, but he figures it’s all due to pure exhaustion. So Keith continues dressing as fast as possible, after wiping his chest of his own cum and his ass of Lance’s. But just as he’s about to flee the room, he’s stopped by a sigh, and then a voice. 

He immediately regrets trying to flee from the intense moment. 

“Next time, don’t lie to me, Keith. Just tell me you don’t want to stay.”

And with shame burning his cheeks, Keith disappears from the room without another sound. __

Losing Regress makes Keith realize a lot of things. 

First, that his team is extremely frustrated with him. When he joins them, they all make angry comments at him, seem annoyed at both his absence and his presence. He doesn’t know what to do to express just how sorry he is, how bad he feels about what he’s done, but they don’t get it. While Keith knows he’s never been good with words, he doesn’t think they’re trying to understand. Training with the Blade is just something he _has_ to do. 

He’s also reminded of how unimportant he – both to them, and in general. Allura tells him just how dispensable he is to the Blade and, though indirectly, she says that they don’t need him. Maybe he’s already known this, since Kolivan doesn’t seem to care who lives and who dies, but it still hurts. The pit in his stomach just grows when she mentions how he’s the only one who can pilot Black. 

To him, she’s implying that they just need him for Black. If they had someone else, it seems that she’d send him off to the Blade, off to certain death. 

It’s then that he makes his decision: the second Shiro can lead again, he’s going to leave Voltron. 

And soon enough, as if the universe is granting his wish, Black lets Shiro in again. Because he wasn’t around to save his team when they were in danger. 

Although in truth, doesn’t matter how it happened. All that matters now is that he can leave. He can finally relieve them of their burden, let them function as the team they’re supposed be. With Allura in Blue. With Shiro leading. With Lance in Red. With cohesion and trust and success. 

Without him. 

He undestands what it’s like to feel unimportant, to feel used, to feel expendable. After all, he’d spent the latter half of his life feeling that way. But he’d thought, so foolishly, that maybe this time it would be different. That maybe this time he’d have a family that would want him. That love him. That would stay. 

But, just like the foster families of the past, this one was done with him. He’s run his course, and they’ve taken what they needed. All that was left now was the disposal. 

He’s decided to make things easy for them though. He wouldn’t fight this time, wouldn’t desperately hang onto his sense of security, of consistency. He would accept the storm he’s thrown into. He would accept that he will die in this war. That he would die to keep them safe, even if he’s nothing but a pawn to them. 

When he returns from his Blade mission, he knows he’s walking into a den of hungry lions, but it doesn’t help him prepare for the looks on their faces. For their anger. 

If he’d still been debating, the looks alone would’ve solidified his choice. 

When he tells them he’s leaving, Shiro is the first to reach out. He tells Keith that he supports him, that he always has a place in Voltron, but not _once_ does he advise Keith to rethink his choice. Not once does he ask Keith to say. 

But still, they hug him, hold him close, and it seems like they’ll miss him. A few tears are shed, but Keith notices there’s no sadness from Lance. His words are almost a stab to his gut. “Who am I gonna make fun of?” 

And Keith sees right through it. He knows what Lance really means. _Who am I gonna get off with? Who am I going to use? Who am I going to fuck over?_

And despite that, the goodbye gives Keith some closure. It’s probably the last time he’s going to see them in person, so it’s a good memory to hang onto. He hasn’t been hugged by anyone other than Shiro in a long time. He’s _definitely_ never been a part of a group hug, let alone the center of one. It’s nice. It’s comforting. 

It really seems like they’re going to miss him. 

As he turns to leave, he looks back at them, smiling just barely. But as soon as he turns, he remembers that he most likely won’t see them again. 

The smile is gone.  
___

When he returns to his room, he realizes he doesn’t have anything to pack. His paladin armor is going to remain at the castle, which pretty much leaves his knife and the clothes on his back. It’s sad, almost, that he doesn’t have anything to take with him, but it honestly just makes leaving easier. 

So he makes his bed, folds the shower towel he had lying around, and heads toward the kitchen for one last bowl of food goo before he leaves. He isn’t sure what they serve at the Marmoran base, but it might be awful Galran food. He doesn’t mind the goo that much anyway. 

He freezes, though, when he hears footsteps that come to stop in the doorway. When he turns, he’s expecting to see Hunk, or even Coran. 

He certainly doesn’t expect Lance. 

“So,” the boy starts, scratching behind his neck nervously. Keith braces himself, though he doesn’t know what for. “You’re leaving.” 

“Yeah,” he affirms monotonously, confused as to why Lance is asking questions he already knows the answer to. He refuses to let himself believe that Lance is upset that he’s leaving. 

Wide eyes gaze up at Keith from their previous place at the ground, and Keith’s heart starts to beat a little faster. Lance is dressed in his casual clothes now, with tousled hair and a damp patch on his signature blue and white shirt. The jacket is nowhere to be found. Keith thinks he’s been training. 

Then Lance takes a step into Keith’s space, so close he can smell both sweat and his shampoo, so close he can feel each breath Lance takes, though they aren’t touching. 

He reaches out, slowly and hesitantly, to cup Keith’s cheek. The gesture is so plain and soft, so uncharacteristic of Lance’s bold nature, that Keith’s stomach flips. He masks it by leaning forward to kiss Lance, possibly for the last time. 

They stay like that for a while, innocently kissing through the intensity of the moment, until Lance picks up the pace and moves his hands from Keith’s face to his hips, then lower. He pulls away teasingly slow, whispering in Keith’s ear. “Let me have you one last time.”

And with practiced ease from weeks of this _arrangement_ , they make out, desperate hands clutch into something, anything. Keith knows now that Lance understands: life isn’t a sure thing anymore. It’s part of the reason Keith agrees, because he knows that he or Lance could die in the war any day now. 

And within minutes, Keith is pressed against the kitchen countertop, Lance draped over him from behind. The surface is cool on his stomach, in contrast to his burning skin, and everything feels like he’s on fire. He can only imagine how red his face is, so he’s almost glad Lance can’t see him. 

Said boy has got two fingers in Keith, working skillfully toward god knows what. He doesn’t think he’s going to last like this, with Lance just about everywhere. He’s breathing down his neck, repeating praises that make Keith flush even more, other hand wrapped loosely around Keith’s cock, lazily tugging. His scent is a good compromise from the fact Keith can’t see his face.

Every thought disappears from Keith’s mind as Lance keeps his fingers crooked, painfully wonderful against his prostate. It's a bit over stimulating, especially as Lance pauses there for a bit. The sensation removes any inhibition Keith had, not even bothering to stop the obscene noises from escaping his lips. And then Lance moves again, three thrusts and another finger, and Keith is coming before he can even process what’s happening, with a desperate shout of Lance’s name. 

It’s when Keith lets himself collapse against the counter – which is now messy with his cum – that he remembers he didn’t even help Lance get off. So he steadies himself and turns to look at the boy behind him. Lance, who is still fully clothed, backs away a bit and sighs, so Keith makes an offer. “Want me to suck you off?”

“Nah, it’s fine,” Lance runs a hand through his hair, and Keith tries not to stare. He sounds a bit strained as he admits his issue. “I just wanted to fuck you,” He laughs breathily, but it sounds forced. “There’s always tomorrow, right?”

The sad attempt at humor makes up Keith’s mind. “You can.”

“No,” Lance immediately refuses, but Keith can tell he’s so turned on that it won’t take much convincing to get him to agree. So he raises his eyebrows at Lance, who looks like he might die if he doesn’t get some relief, and grins teasingly. Lance sighs and smiles back. “It’ll hurt,” he admits, as if Keith doesn’t know. He just shrugs, showing Lance that he really doesn’t mind, but he still questions Keith. “You sure?”

He nods, then turns back around, arching his back. He fixes his eyes on the fridge across from him and presses his bare ass back until he meets Lance. Hands are immediately on his hips, soft but firm, just so _Lance_ that it makes his heart ache a bit.

“I don’t want to hurt you...” He trails off, to which Keith huffs in frustration. Fuck Lance for being so damn caring. He blindly reaches behind him for his dick, lining it up to him, but Lance swats at his hand and takes over. He’s about to push in when he stops again, “Are you sure about this? You’re kinda acting –”

“Do it,” he interrupts. So Lance does as he’s told.

Yet Keith immediately regrets it. There’s not enough lube, he isn’t hard, and he wasn’t ready. It hurts. Bad. He bites down on his lip so hard that he tastes copper, just to cope with the pain. Lance repeats barely coherent praises behind him. “Are you okay?” He questions, moving his left hand into Keith’s hair like he knows he likes. So Keith just nods, buries his face in his arms as Lance thrusts into him, over and over again, building a steady rhythm. There are tears down Keith’s face by the time Lance’s movements get erratic, when he’s about to cum.

“So tight, holy shit, you feel so good," he groans and pulls at his hair. "Fuck, _Keith!_ ”

The praise and the sound of his name from Lance as he comes inside of him _almost_ makes the pain worth it. Lance leans against his back as he regains his breath, and it makes Keith a bit dizzy. But honestly, that might just be the discomfort throughout his body. He lets out a shaky breath of his own, which seems to snap Lance out of his post-coital reverie. He pulls out and turns Keith around, too fast and too rough. He doesn’t meet Lance’s eyes, but he knows his face is red and salty with tears. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He hates Lance for caring, for making Keith feel like he’s both flying and drowning at the same time. “Why didn’t you say something?”

In seconds Lance has his arms around him, tucks him under his chin but it’s just too much for Keith. He can’t do this anymore. He just can’t.  
He’s officially hit his breaking point, his rock bottom. 

In hindsight, he should’ve ended it as soon as he realized he had feelings for Lance. But he didn’t, because he’s weak, and he wanted as much of him as he could get. It was a clearly a huge mistake, because Keith was stupid enough to think maybe Lance would love him back. 

“Please,” he sobs, “Lance, just leave!” He can’t catch his breath, he can’t even process what is happening. But he’s crying, ugly crying, breath heaving, and there’s just nothing he can do to calm himself. He doesn’t know why, but everything hurts. His heart hurts. He hates Lance so much, and he doesn’t know why. “I don’t want you here! You can’t see me like this!”

“But you’re hurt! Stop pushing me away, Keith! Just let me help –”

“No!” Keith screams. He pushes him and, as Lance stumbles back startled, he shouts again. “Just leave!”

And Lance just looks heartbreakingly distraught. His eyebrows are scared, his fists are clenched in anxiety, his lips are parted as if he’s about to protest, about to stay despite it all. 

But he doesn’t. He turns his back to Keith and does as he’s told. He leaves.

Keith doesn’t blame him. He’s never been someone people stay for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> will i ever let them be happy? eventually. i promise. also, this last scene was actually the first thing i wrote for this fic. the entire fic was based around that 1k of smut. crazy huh? 
> 
> so in case you haven’t gathered from the horrible lack of cohesion, this story was written in bits and pieces, out of order. please let me know if there are discrepancies. 
> 
> with love as always,  
> lily


	10. Nothing But A Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> one word: naxcela

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bet y’all thought i’d never come back to this fic, huh??? yeah well me too. i didn’t want to, because i’m sort of embarrassed of it, but i don’t like leaving things unfinished. i am sorry for my irresponsibility though.
> 
> if you’re still here, thank you so much.

It's not a difficult decision.

If he looked throughout his life, he could easily identify instances in which shaped him to be the person he is currently. Because the reality of his life was this: he'd known isolation better than anything.

He'd known isolation on his first day of school in kindergarten, when he'd watched the other children in his class say goodbye to their tearful mothers. His dad had never mentioned his mother after she left, and Keith had never quite grasped it. He didn't understand at the time, but he came to know that it made him different from everyone else. It made him an outsider.

He’d known isolation entering the group home, when the younger children ran around him, playing games, dreaming of being adopted. Throughout the time he spent there, he watched kids come and go. When he asked the woman in charge when it would be his turn to be adopted, she assured him that no one would ever want to adopt a “discipline case” like him.

He’d known isolation at the Garrison, when other students stayed as far away from him as possible. They’d whisper about him, about how he was good without trying, about how Shiro was the only reason he was there. And when he didn’t go home for winter break, a rumor spread that he had no family because he’d run away from them. If only they’d known the opposite was true. 

He’d known isolation on the day of the Kerberos launch, when the last person he had left flew away from him, toward possible death. And months later, when they received word of the failure, he had no one to turn to as he fled to the roof, staring at the stars, tears on his cheeks. 

He’d even known isolation when he was a part of Team Voltron. After all, he was the loner. 

And yet despite all of this, Keith doesn’t even hesitate when he flies into the shield. 

This team has been the closest thing he’s ever had to a family. They have stood by him through his best and his worst, and never once abandoned him. He chose to fight with the Blade in order to keep Voltron as efficient as possible. They didn’t need him anyway.

He flies into the shield to save them. Because even though they didn’t need him anymore, they didn’t leave him behind. 

To him, they’re worth dying for.

He closes his eyes before he’s about to hit the barrier and sees the faces of his team when they’d stared down at him with resentment, hostility, disappointment for his lack of dedication. That was when he made up his mind to leave Voltron. He never wanted to see them disappointed in him again. 

Now, he hopes to make them proud. 

And for a second, he just tries to process it what he’s about to do. When he opens his eyes, he’s hurdling forward with increasing speed. He waits impatiently for the impending crash. 

His hands shake. His face burns. His heart pounds. 

But he doesn’t feel a jolt. He doesn’t shake with an impact. His eyes open warily, fearful of what he expects to see, but there is nothing. There is no barrier, there is no explosion. He didn’t do anything.

Still, his team cheers since their obstacle is gone. Could they think he was dead? Are they cheering because he’s gone? Why does Lance’s voice seem so much louder? Why does he feel like he’s going to throw up?

And then Shiro’s voice echoes through the comms: “Good job, Keith.”

As soon as he docks the fighter, he pukes. Not a single Blade member says anything.

* * *

Time passes where there’s not much contact between the two separate forces. Voltron stops calling the Blade headquarters to talk to Keith. They go their separate ways. And that’s fine. 

It’s fine. Or, at least, that’s what Keith tells himself. 

He really isn’t fine. He has nightmares of various sorts, ranging from the day he found Lance unconscious in Red, to his near-sacrifice at Naxcela. He didn’t want to admit how large of an effect the event had on him, but the bags under his eyes proved hard to ignore. He couldn’t eat, he couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t _live_ without thinking of when he’d almost died. Every time he closes his eyes, he expects that same force to collide with him, to prove him dead, but it never comes. It’d never came. 

He isn’t fine. Kolivan recognizes it. 

“You should visit the paladins,” he suggests, voice as neutral and even as it always is. Keith thinks he’s imagining a lilt to Kolivan’s tone, even as he speaks again. “You don’t look well, and we do not have adequate supplies to treat humans.”

“Neither does the castle,” he protests weakly, but one look from his leader tells Keith he isn’t going to get out of this. Kolivan isn’t budging, he knows that, but he still wants to fight it. “I’d cause them trouble. They don’t want me back there. I’ll be fine after a day of rest.”

“You will leave in half a varga.”

And that’s all Kolivan says before sending him off. Keith doesn’t even have the energy to fight the man.

* * *

He’s piloting a lone pod, locked onto the coordinates Allura had provided to Kolivan. And only halfway through the journey as he flies close to a neighboring planet, he gets ambushed. 

The Galra must’ve been stationed on the planet he’s passing, since they attack him in large numbers. If he’d been on his game, he probably could’ve maneuvered through without much damage. 

But he isn’t prepared to defend himself. The blast that goes through the right side of the pod doesn’t hit him directly, but the combined effects of the blast and the residual heat are enough to force him from the pilot seat with a jolt. When he lands on the cold floor, he feels his consciousness fading. 

_Maybe this is finally the end,_ he thinks. And in all truth, he wouldn’t mind it too much. It’d save him the humiliation of crawling back to his old team, licking his emotional wounds and pleading for attention. It was the last thing he wanted to do, so maybe this was the universe’s way of apologizing for all the cruel circumstances he’d endured throughout his life. Maybe it was ending his misery out of pity. 

He watched through lidded eyes as the metal of his ship melted where the blast had hit. The heat engulfing him began to become unbearable, and he felt his head swim. Maybe his brain was melting. Maybe his clothing would catch on fire. Maybe his team would find him melted in a puddle on the floor. Maybe they would find him screaming as his skin burnt. Maybe they’d find him lifeless and cold, long after he was supposed to arrive. Maybe they’d be sad. Maybe they wouldn’t be. After all, he did leave them. 

Maybe he should’ve told Lance how he felt. Maybe. 

He thinks about the look on Lance’s face as he screamed for him to leave, for him to let Keith hurt alone. He’d looked so confused, so startled, so offended. So _remorseful_. And for what? Why? Lance didn’t have to be sorry. He hadn’t done anything to intentionally hurt Keith. 

It wasn’t Lance’s fault that Keith fell in love with him. Keith should’ve told him. He should’ve faced his fears and told him. 

But Keith was weak. He was afraid of the inevitable rejection, so he’d hidden. _And look how far that got me,_ he thinks bitterly. Now he’d never get that closure. 

As Keith lets his eyes fall shut, lets the heat engulf him, lets his his breathing go shallow, he makes a promise to himself. 

If he ever wakes up from this, he’s going to tell Lance. 

Delirious with pain, he almost laughs. It’s a weak promise as well. There’s no reality behind him. The only reality for him now is death. There’s no waking up from this one. 

Resigned, Keith lets the darkness take him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woah its been over THREE MONTHS since i touched this fic and im so terribly sorry. we're almost at the end though. special thanks to those who have stayed with me through this journey.
> 
> love y'all,  
> lily


	11. Your One and Only

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another three months without updating i’m back with an ENDING! oh god finally

When he wakes, everything is cold. 

He hadn’t expected to ever wake up, and he certainly didn’t expect to fall into a pair of arms just as familiar as his own. Keith blinks up at Shiro, head fuzzy and aching all over, and wonders if he’s truly alive. It certainly feels like a dream, he thinks, as he watches Shiro’s face for a minute. 

He knows Shiro is talking to him, moving his mouth and speaking, but Keith can’t understand anything that he’s saying. All he can hear is Shiro’s tone, as steady and calming as ever, which admittedly soothes him. If he is dead, he wouldn’t mind living like this forever; like this, he’s got Shiro, who he loves more than anything in the world, and everything's safe. Everything is right in the world for the first time in a very long time. 

But as he blinks dazedly, Shiro seems to realize he isn’t hearing him. His tired eyes fill with tears as he reaches a hand to run it through Keith’s hair. 

The action is all it takes to break Keith’s steel resolve. 

He absolutely falls to _pieces_ in Shiro’s arms. He’s being pressed into Shiro before he knows it, and he accepts the comfort with a desperate grasp. His face is buried in the crook of Shiro’s neck, and his hands cling to the fabric of his clothing. Sobs shake his shoulders, wrack his body, weaken his muscles. He’s got nothing left. 

His memory is extremely fuzzy. He remembers being attacked while on his way back to the castle - but nothing after that. His head is pounding, but he tries to search for an explanation of how he’s alive. 

With a jolt, he remembers the promise he made to himself: if he lived, he would tell Lance how he felt. 

Trembling slightly, Keith picks his head up and looks around; they’re in front of the cryopods, which explains both why he’s cold and why he can’t remember much. Luckily, his hearing is starting to return. He notices the sounds of his own sobbing and Shiro’s steady voice above him. He looks around some more, insistent upon becoming aware of his surroundings. Though he’s a little dizzy, his vision is mostly clear. He can see everything in the room. 

Next to the open pod that he presumably was in, lying asleep on the floor, in a pile of blankets, is Lance.

For a moment, he just stares, until Shiro seems to catch on and answer his question before he even gets to say anything. “He’s been up for about 3 days straight,” Shiro whispers soothingly. “I just got him to go to sleep a few minutes ago. He passed out almost immediately.”

“He’s been waiting for me to wake up the whole time?” Keith whispers back incredulously, slowly picking himself up out of Shiro’s arms and dizzily stumbling toward Lance’s spot on the floor. 

“Yeah, he has,” Shiro nods. “I’ll let you two talk. They’ll be a meal ready for you both in a bit, okay?”

Keith nods, barely hearing Shiro as he leaves. He keeps his gaze fixed on the door, away from Lance so he can think clearly. The only thing on his mind right now is how to go about what he needs to do. Should he make a long speech? Should he just blurt it out? Should there be a big romantic gesture with it? Should he-

“Keith!”

And then, he’s wrapped up in a familiar pair of arms. 

He falls into Lance’s embrace just as easily as he used to, back before everything got complicated. He can’t help but melt into him - boneless, exhausted, and _comfortable_. The moment seems to freeze Keith there in time just enough is he can realize something important. 

He’s _happy_.

He’s happy right there in Lance arms. There’s no place in the universe he’d rather be in that moment - which is no light statement, since Keith has seen a lot of the universe - but there is no place better than where he is. The warmth of Lance compares to nothing. Keith wants nothing more than to wrap himself up in the moment and never let it go. 

Unfortunately, Lance separates them a little, and Keith decides he has to say what he wants to say _now,_ or he never will. 

Unfortunately, they say each other’s name at the same time, then both pause. 

“I’m going first,” Lance asserts, lifting a hand up to cup Keith’s chin, and their eyes finally meet. “I’ve waited all this time to tell you, but I shouldn’t have. I’ve almost lost you too many times to count, and I’m not going to let another close call happen before I tell you the truth.”

He pauses for a minute, as if hesitant, then leans down and kisses Keith.

It only lasts a few seconds, and it’s more chaste and innocent than anything they’ve ever done. The churning in Keith’s gut intensifies as time ticks on. When they separate, he stares directly into Lance’s eager eyes. His cheeks are flushed and his hair is mussed from sleep, but he looks perfect to Keith. As much as Keith wants to tell him now, he lets Lance finish first, curious as to what he’s going to say. 

Lance smiles gently and runs a hand through his hair. He’s nervous. 

“When we first started this… _thing_ , I only wanted it to be casual. I thought you and I could sleep together, and maybe it would help solve our arguments and relieve some tension. And for a while, it _was_ like that. It was fun, easy, and simple. We were just attracted to each other - nothing more. No string attached, right? It was the perfect solution.

“But then we got to know each other better. I found myself excited to see you, even when we weren’t having sex. I don’t know exactly how it happened or when, but we became _friends_. We got closer, we shared our insecurities, we played video games, we did face masks together, we drank warm milk, we shared a bed for no good reason, and we fe-”

Lance clears his throat anxiously and looks away from Keith’s eyes. 

“Well, _I_ fell in love.”

Keith just stares, stares, and stares. Dumbfounded. Speechless. Paralyzed. It seems to be the wrong thing for him to do (or not do), because Lance backs away, scratching at his neck awkwardly as if he regretted saying that.

“Sorry, I-I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he rambles, nervously fiddling with the hem of his shirt. Keith notices that his hand is shaking slightly. “I just need you to know that I can’t do it anymore. I can’t just be temporary bliss for you. I can’t be just a _distraction_ for you. It’s not enough anymore. I’m sorry, but it’s all or nothing. I just needed you to know how I feel, then we can go back to how we were before all this _mess_.”

Finally, Keith starts thinking rationally. Finally, Keith jumps into action. 

“No! You said all or nothing!” He yells before he can think better if it, reaching and grabbing his shirt to keep him from walking away. “I want _all_ , Lance.”

“What?”

Instead of a response, though, Keith just kisses him. 

It’s a complete sensory overload. Keith tries his best to take it all in, but he can only really focus on one thing at a time: Lance’s hands running through his hair, their chests pressed together, and the rhythm of their lips. It’s absolutely heavenly; it simultaneously lasts forever and not long enough. 

“I want _all_ of you, Lance,” he whispers when they break apart. He presses their foreheads together, holding him close. “I love you, too.”

And with that, Lance begins to laugh uncontrollably. 

Within seconds, it’s contagious, and Keith is doubled over with the same contented laughter. He honestly isn’t even sure what Lance finds so amusing, but the sound of it is enough to coax the same reaction from Keith. When the moment finally passes, Lance brings him in real close again, wrapping his arms around Keith’s waist and securing him there. He smiles, real big and genuine, and the light from it is blinding. 

“We’re idiots, Keith,” he giggles, nuzzling the side of Keith’s cheek with his nose and connecting their lips quickly once more. “We are two complete idiots.”

And though Keith nods, he thinks that _this_ is the smartest thing they’ve ever done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this fic was, above all else, a learning experience. when i started it, i intended to create a canonverse fwb fic, because that was my favorite thing to read. now, i’ve changed. i’ve grown. i’ve evolved. this fic is no longer a representation of myself, and as much as i’m embarrassed by it now, i do have a soft spot in my heart for it. it was my first big vld project. i won’t delete it because i’m proud i finished it (though it took quite some time). 
> 
> i would mainly just like to shout out every one of you who read this monstrosity and put up with me through it. the last three (?) chapters took me like 6 months because i just couldn’t bring myself to write this fic again. thank you especially to anyone who commented. you kept me going. 
> 
> i hope you all enjoyed this. i certainly did.  
> -lily


End file.
